Celeb Amaurea: Silver Dawn
by Mara-DragonMaster
Summary: Sequel to: Red Sunrise and Red Sunset must read these two first!. A battle and a war has been won, but the story does not end here. Stories rarely end when expected. So when peace is achieved, what new struggles arise? What new blessings grace them?
1. Sie GlennHa: So It Goes

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter One

_"Sie Glenn-Ha" (So It Goes)_

* * *

The White Tree once again bloomed in the courtyard before the palace. Aragorn had walked with Gandalf, and came upon a young sapling not seven years old, hidden on the stony mountain side. So the old tree was uprooted, and laid to rest in Rath Dínen, and the new tree planted in its place. There was much rejoicing among the people. 

Legolas stood before it, staring up at its silver leaves and white flowers, and wondered at it, remembering a thing that Mary had said to him, long ago on a stone wall while they waited for doom to fall upon them:

"_Your many brothers(sworn) circle you, and (a) white tree flower(s) in front of (a) stone castle."_

"Ah, Mary." He whispered to the air, gazing at the tree with a smile. "Le gar-lammen anwa, ananta le deli han-esse sui ceri-golodhrim " _Ah, Mary. You have spoken truth, but yet you hide it as elf-folk do._

The day before Midsummer, messengers arrived announcing the arrival of a company of fair folk, and Aragorn seemed filled with much joy and bid the city prepare. The next day, on Midsummer's Eve, Mary did not wander the palace garden as was her habit, and Legolas wondered at it. Then a servant of the house came to him, and bid him array himself in his finest robes, as the Lady Mary said Aragorn wished. So Legolas left to his own chambers, though he was puzzled by the request.

Mary, meanwhile, in her own room, washed herself in a bath drawn by the serving maids. The water was warm and gentle on her skin, and scented with oils. Then she rose from the water and wrapped herself in a long white towel, and went to her bed where her clothes had been laid out. Taking the ice yellow dress she dropped the towel to the floor, and carefully slipped the velvet over her head. Drawing it down she slid her arms into the winged sleeves, and then she took up the gold and silver brocaded belt and set it around her hips. As she stepped to the mirror to do her hair she paused a moment, taking in her reflection, and her hand traveled to the silver and gold brocade of the v-neckline, and the brocaded bands on her upper arms. The sun filtered in through her window, and seemed to light the yellow dress on fire with a white light. Taking up her comb Mary ran it through her drying hair, then shook it, and combed it again, over and over again, until it was dry and as soft as silk. Letting her dark hair fall down her back she then set down the comb and picked up a circlet, given to her as a gift by an unknown person. It was twisted silver of a vine design, and its leaves were made of gold, dropping to a point in the middle of her forehead. This she set on her hair, and secured it. Turning this way and that she studied herself, and satisfied, she glanced out of her window. The sun was low in the sky. It was time.

Legolas waited before the gates of Minas Tirith, with Aragorn and Gandalf and Gimli, and the four hobbits, and Éomer, and his sister Éowyn with Faramir, now betrothed. Aragorn was dressed in all of his splendor, with his crown upon his head, and a black surcoat edged in gold, with the white tree and seven stars on his chest, and he waited with a look of patient joy and anticipation on his face. Legolas wore a white robe belted with a blue-grey embroidered belt, and over this he wore a shining blue robe with a high collar clasped with a silver butterfly, and on his head he wore a simple, silver circlet.

Looking around, Legolas wondered where Mary was, and felt the beginnings of agitation as the sun sank lower into the sky, casting the western expanse in a golden glow, and in the east the sky turned a deep blue and the first of the evening stars appeared. He could sense the coming of something important, and still she was not there.

Then he saw her, coming like a ray of light down the street to join them, the dark of her hair spread across her shoulders, almost black against the ice-yellow of her dress, and the circlet gleamed upon her head. No longer did she look like the strange woman they had met so long ago, dressed in her strange clothes. Strange she was still, but more like a princess of another world, crowned with a circlet that gleamed against her hair. Legolas smiled; he had hoped, when he had sent the servant to put the circlet in her room, that she would wear it for Aragorn's marriage to the Lady Arwen, if ever the elven maid came to Minas Tirith. That Mary wore it now made his heart glad, and yet he also wondered now about what was to happen that night.

A call from a silver horn announced the arrival of the company of elves, clear and ringing through the cool evening air. Among the company was Galadriel and Celeborn, and Elrohir and Elladan, Aragorn's adopted brothers, and last came Elrond and his daughter, Arwen.

"You were right." Legolas said to Mary. "There is great pleasure in this surprise."

Mary smiled.

The marriage of Aragorn and Arwen was filled with great joy and peace, and there was laughter and song and dance and music, and flowers were strewn at their feet, and garlands went before them, and there was a great feast. Mary sat with Legolas and Gimli and the four hobbits, and laughed with them, and sang with Gimli, and danced with the hobbits, and her feet were light and the hobbits' laughter contagious. Gimli held his metal-wrought tankard, his beard combed and braided, and his roaring laughter added to the sounds of celebration.

Noticing Legolas sitting quiet beside him, his eyes watching the dancing, Gimli looked out and saw Mary and the hobbits, with Gandalf towering over them all, dancing to some merry music. "The Lady Mary looks fair and bright tonight." Gimli surmised.

"Indeed."

Gimli glanced sideways at his friend, seeing the slight smile. "It is a pretty coronet that she wears." He said, eyeing him with curiosity. "I have not seen it before." From the corner of his eye he saw his elf friend give the barest of movements, shifting slightly. "It shines beautifully against her dark hair." Legolas leaned to one side, resting his chin on his forefinger and thumb. "Most delicate and finely made, too." Gimli mused. "Made by a skilled craftsman. I wonder who it was that made it for her."

Legolas would not look at him, instead keeping his gaze firmly forward, and Gimli chuckled. "You have fine taste, lad."

"I don't know what you mean."

Gimli gave a huff. "I'm sure you don't."

There was silence.

"Does she know?"

"No."

"I thought not." Gimli took a long drink. "Yet it would appear she shares your sentiments."

Blue eyes snapped to his, then turned to gaze at the dancing maiden again. "I do not believe so." He whispered.

Gimli looked at him sharply. "What?" he exclaimed. "You do not see how she looks at you? Her eyes glow as bright as the moon, Legolas!"

The elf looked doubtful. "Mary is one to speak her mind," he said. "And she has said nothing."

"She speaks her mind of all else but herself." Gimli observed quietly. "You are an elf, and high above her in wisdom and in years. And to top it off you're a prince. No, I think she would keep silent, unless she could be sure of your feelings for her."

Legolas watched the spinning lady before him, her dark hair and yellow dress twirling about her, her cheeks flushed and eyes dancing with laughter. As the burn in his chest began yet again, Legolas pondered Gimli's words, and wondered if they could be true. Then her dark eyes suddenly turned to him and caught his gaze, and for a moment there was a flash of sorrow and longing in them, so great that a pang went through his heart. Then it was gone, and Legolas wondered if he had not imagined it.

The celebrations lasted for many days. On the last night Legolas saw a flash of yellow on the outskirts of the crowds, and he realized that it was Mary, making her way towards him through the shadows. She was very fair as she approached him, yet in her eyes there was wistfulness that stilled him.

"Veduí, Héri Mary." He said. _Greetings, Lady Mary._

"Veduí, Haryon Legolas." _Greetings, Prince Legolas._

"Manen nalyë?" he asked. _How are you?_

"Im maer." She replied. _I'm well._

He gazed on her. "Sanda?" he whispered. _Truly? _

She laughed then at the familiar words they spoke, and dropped her head, and her laughter died. For a moment she did not answer, but then she raised her face, and smiled. "Sanda." She said; but the smile did not reach her eyes. _Truly._

"Baw, le ú." _No, you (are) not._

She sighed, and her look was fond. "Mana ceri-im ceri-as le?" she asked. _What do I do with you? _

He smiled.

In unison they turned, and began to walk together around the edge of the courtyard, their feet stepping together. "What will you do now?" Mary asked.

"I shall go first with Gimli to see the Glittering Caves, as I promised," Legolas said. "And then to Fangorn Forest to wander a bit and speak with the trees. After that–" he glanced up at the starlit sky. "I shall ask my Elven-lord to permit me and a group of my kinsmen to come here and live a while, to make it a place of bird song and growing things."

"That will be lovely indeed." Mary said quietly, as though to herself. Then: "What is Valinor, Legolas? Is it a place where only the elves can go, or is it where all souls go, by sea or by death?"

Legolas looked sharply at her, yet nothing in her countenance was downcast or shadowed to give him alarm, merely curious. "You ask me many strange questions, Lady." He said in bemusement.

"What?" she looked up at him. "I have only asked you the one strange question tonight."

"I am thinking of all you have asked me on our long journey together." Legolas said with a smile. "And that adds up to many."

Her mouth pulled to the side in a wry smile, conceding his point.

"Valinor is the home of the Valar, and of the elves– those who journey across the sea." Legolas said, frowning a little as he attempted to explain. "Only elves are allowed to cross, unless the Valar grant access to a particular mortal. Within Valinor is Mandos, the Halls of Waiting, where the souls of all those who die– elf and man alike– go to await their final fate."

"So no mortal man may enter Valinor, by sea or by death." Mary said quietly. "Unless given permission."

Legolas glanced at her. "I do not know what fate the souls of men await in Mandos," he said gently. "Why do you ask these questions?"

For a moment she did not answer, her lips pursed as she thought of how to explain. "Eight there are here," she finally said. "And one that waits, and another who would join them together. But the horizon is clouded, and though that one strains to see, they cannot, for sight has been taken from them, and they can only hear now. But there is nothing but silence."

Legolas shook his head slightly. "You have the gift of weaving your words with mystery."

She smiled a little. "Isn't that what life is to all of us? A mystery? We can see clearly the road behind us, for we have walked it, but the road ahead is still strange and unknown."

"Yet a light now shines to show us the way." Legolas said. "As you told me all along it would, though I did not fully understand then."

"You understood enough to hope." Mary said quietly. "That was all that mattered."

They were silent, then, for a little while, until they reached the edge of the courtyard and the wall, and looked down upon the city and out across the plains.

"What of you?" Legolas asked. "Where now will you go? Or will you stay?"

Mary leaned against the wall with her arms, her hands clasped together in front of her, and the cool wind blew her dress, and carried her hair against her face. "I would love to stay." She whispered, and her eyes were distant. "Yes, I would have loved to stay." Then she turned her eyes to his, and they were black and bottomless, and the stars reflected in them. "Take in the beauty of the caves, Legolas, and all that the mountain has to offer, and listen well to the trees of Fangorn, and rest in their shade for as long as you wish." She said. "Promise me this."

Legolas stared at her. "I promise."

"And… think on me when you do?"

The slightest frown drew his brow, yet he agreed. "I shall."

She nodded, seeming satisfied, and her eyes took on all the luminosity of the moon, and Legolas suddenly understood what Gimli had said before. Then a great horn blew long and deep, signaling the end to the night's festivities, and the end of the celebrations. Mary and Legolas glanced behind, and then at each other. Mary smiled softly at him, and for a moment her hand strayed close to his upon the wall, without touching. "Lissi n-lí lór." She whispered. "Namárië, nin ernil." _Sweet be your dreams. Farewell, my prince. _

Then she was gone, a spark disappearing into the darkness of the night.

* * *

Aragorn sat by the fountain with his queen, Arwen, and as they spoke quietly with one another Legolas approached them. Bowing slightly he greeted them, and they him, and then he looked Aragorn in the eye. "Lord Aragorn, I would ask a question of you." 

Aragorn nodded.

"When my travels with Gimli are done, and we have gone to the Glittering Caves and to Fangorn Forest, I will visit my homeland for a time." Legolas said. "But then after I would beg leave to return to Gondor with my kinsmen and dwell here."

"Your wish is gladly granted." Aragorn said, his grey eyes joyful. "You may have Ithilien as your home, if that please you."

"It does. I would also ask that the lady Mary be given a home, either here in the palace, or with my kin in Ithilien."

Aragorn regarded him thoughtfully. "I have given much thought to that," he said. "And mean to speak with her in these next few days." He was silent a moment, hand on his chin. "If I know her mind even a little, I believe she would wish to live in Ithilien." He finally said. At Legolas' look he answered: "She has grown close to you, closer than to anyone else."

Legolas tipped his head in acknowledgement of Aragorn's assessment. "Shall I extend the invitation to her, then?"

Aragorn nodded. "With my blessings."

As Legolas left, he passed by Frodo, who walked toward the courtyard and the fountain where Aragorn and Arwen sat. "Mae govannen, Frodo." Legolas said. _Well met, Frodo. _

"Mae govannen, Legolas." Frodo said, pausing to look up at the elf, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. "Where are you off to?"

"I go to speak with the Lady Mary." Legolas said.

"Oh." Frodo glanced back. "I think I saw her going to her rooms after we spoke at breakfast. She said she had to finish packing."

As Frodo smiled up at him and then continued on his way to Aragorn, Legolas looked after him, his brows drawn slightly together. Why would she be packing? Turning, Legolas left the courtyard and entered the palace, finding his way through the halls and up some stairs to the women's wing. The women there stared at him, some curious, others surprised. Finding the door to Mary's room Legolas knocked upon the wood, and as the door pushed open at the touch he paused. "Mary?" he called, and waited a moment. The room remained silent. With a feeling of dread Legolas cautiously pushed the door open and entered, looking around at the darkened interior. Some sunlight filtered in through the window, but the rest of the room was cast in shadow; and it was empty. The yellow velvet dress lay upon the bed, but her boots, cloak, sword, and the circlet of leaves were gone.

His heart sinking, Legolas turned and hurried down to the great hall, where he found Gimli and Gandalf with the hobbits– minus Frodo. They all looked up as he strode toward them, his uneasy air felt by all. "Where is Mary?" he asked.

His companions glanced at one another. "She is not in her rooms?" Gimli asked gruffly in surprise.

"No." Legolas answered. "She is not."

Merry looked worried, and Sam puzzled, but Pippin, his face downcast for only a moment, brightened and said, "Perhaps she is in the garden."

Legolas gave a barely discernable shake of his head. "Her things are gone." He looked at Gandalf. "Her sword, her cloak, everything."

Gandalf, his face unsmiling, stood. "Check the stables." He muttered, and left, with Legolas and Gimli close behind. The three hobbits looked at one another, then jumped up and ran after.

The stall where Ædelstan had resided was empty, its gate open. Bushy brows pulled together, and Gandalf strode through the stables until he found the stable master. "You," he said, advancing on the startled man. "Has anyone left this day? Did a lady come down this morning?"

"Yes, m'lord." The stable master confirmed, nodding and looking around nervously at the penetrating gazes of a wizard, an elf, and a dwarf bearing down on him. The three hobbits stood behind, listening. "As a matter a'fact, the prophetess came down not long after breakfast, all in her grey with her sword belted on her waist, and her cloak and a pack in her arms, and a bundle which she carried most gently, and she 'ad me saddle up her 'orse. Ædelstan, his name was, I think. So I did."

"Which direction did she go?" Legolas demanded, even as the wizard's mouth opened to ask his own questions.

"To the north, I believe, Master Elf." The stable master answered. "She was going to follow the Anduin."

Legolas hissed, his eyes narrowed and sharp in his frustration. The stable master stepped back with wide eyes, having never before seen an angered elf, and he wondered that any creature could look so fierce. "Why would she leave?" Legolas asked, turning his narrowed eyes on Gandalf and Gimli. "It is not like her."

Gandalf nodded, and his gaze was steady. "Go," he said to the elf. His voice was earnest. "I feel that she is running from something, something that haunts her." He lowered his voice even more, and stepped closer. "I have sensed something amiss since before the Midsummer," he whispered. "And it is not the death of Théoden that troubles her." He said as Legolas made to suggest just that.

Gimli looked up at his friend, and put a hand on his arm. "Go after her, lad."

"What's going on?" Sam asked, pushing forward, his round face earnest.

Legolas turned and strode through the stables. Pippin and Merry looked after him in confusion. "Wait!" Pippin called, and he and his cousin ran after, with Sam behind. Gandalf and Gimli followed.

"Where has Mary got to?" Merry asked, his hobbit eyes keen as Legolas opened the door to Arod's stall.

The elven prince swung himself onto the white horse's bare back, and looked down at them. "Tell Aragorn for me." He said. Then he bumped Arod's sides, holding onto his mane. "Arod! Nor-róvan!" he said, and the horse neighed and dove forward, bursting from the stall and pounding through the stables and out into the sunlight. Within moments elf and horse were gone. _Arod! Ride hard!_

Pippin jogged a few steps ahead, staring, and he raised his hands. "Tell Aragorn what?" he called.

The other two hobbits stared.

"You know," Merry announced. "If ever there were two folks who liked each other and didn't know, it'd be them two.

* * *

Mary sat astride Ædelstan's broad back, her cloak draped behind her, a pack of food and a bedroll secured to the back of the saddle, and a small bundle– carefully wrapped– hanging from a small bag beside her leg and her sword. Dressed once more in her white underdress and split grey surcoat and boots, she had pulled her hair back with a leather tie and rolled up her sleeves, the sun growing warm on her right side as it shone across the river. Dark strands of hair had escaped, and hung about her face. 

For a while she said nothing, lost in the storm of emotions that had raged within her when she had ridden through the gate of Minas Tirith. She had said her goodbyes, in a way, at breakfast, though she didn't think that anyone realized it. They would once she was gone. Legolas, most of all. Mary had not wanted them to know she was saying goodbye, however; they would have begged her to stay, and she was not sure she would have been able to resist.

Soon, however, the silence grew too lonesome, and so Mary started talking. Ædelstan's ears pricked and turned towards her, listening as she described for him some of the things she missed from her world, and some of the things she didn't. "I think the thing I miss the most," she said. "Are the showers. You would not believe the strange looks I received in the palace when people saw me, every morning, going to the washhouse to bathe. But I couldn't help it, you know? I mean, when you're traveling it's one thing. You can't help not washing all the time; you don't have the resources. But in the palace…"

How long they rode that way, with her talking continuously and Ædelstan listening, she did not know. Eventually her voice quieted, and she looked to her right to watch the river flowing away, going south towards the sea. In a quiet voice, that grew louder with each verse– to fill the silence that surrounded her– she began to sing. Her thoughts were on the reason she had left, and on a certain elf.

"In every heart there is a room,

A sanctuary safe and strong

To heal the wounds from lovers past,

Until a new one comes along.

I spoke to you in cautious tones;

You answered me with no pretense.

And still I feel I said too much,

My silence is my self defense.

And every time I've held a rose

It seems I only felt the thorns;

And so it goes, and so it goes,

And so will you soon I suppose."

Ædelstan turned his head, and whickered. Far behind she heard the sounds of a horse give a crying neigh, and Ædelstan snorted, tossing his head.

"But if my silence made you leave,

Then that would be my worst mistake.

So I will share this room with you,

And you can have this heart to break.

And this is why my eyes are closed,

It's just as well for all I've seen.

And so it goes, and so it goes,

And you're the only one who knows.

So I would choose to be with you–

That's if the choice were mine to make.

But you can make decisions too,

And you can have this heart to break."

Her voice dropped, and she sang it almost in a whisper to herself, even as the sound of thundering hooves drew near and behind her.

"And so it goes, and so it goes…

And you're the only one who knows."

"Mary."

Her chest clenched within her, and her heart leapt into her throat. "Legolas."

"Why did you leave?" he asked, slowing Arod's mad run to walk beside Ædelstan.

She would not look at him. "It was time."

Legolas did not answer, but she could feel his eyes as he glanced at her disbelievingly. "Aragorn has made you an offer."

She waited.

"He wishes to offer you a home in Gondor." Legolas continued. "And when the elves come to live in Ithilien, to join them." He paused for a moment. "I, too, wish it."

Mary bit her lip, so hard it almost bled. "No." she finally said.

Legolas frowned at her. "It is not often that a king is so gracious to a stranger, to allow such a one to live in his land."

Mary's eyes widened, and she jerked on the reins, abruptly pulling Ædelstan to a halt and turning him to face Legolas. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her brows pulled together. "'To allow such a one–' Do you believe me unworthy? Is that it?"

"I did not say that." Legolas said as the horses danced in consternation beneath them.

"You said that he wishes it, that you wish it. What about what I wish?"

Legolas' eyes narrowed, and some emotion she could not read flickered through his eyes. "To refuse the wishes of a king and a prince is to insult their grace!"

Mary stared at him, her mouth open, and in the next moment her temper flared. "You selfish, uncaring, pointy-eared princeling!" she hissed, her eyes flaring with fire. Legolas pulled back sharply, straightening. "Just because you are royalty, you think you can control people however you want to? That you can tell them where to go and what to do as it pleases you? How dare you! I am not of this world, and therefore not under your command! I answer to Aragorn as my respect for him allows, but it is by my choice, and I most certainly don't have to answer to you!" Ædelstan tossed his head and snorted impatiently, circling Arod. "Who do you think you are?" she demanded. "What makes you think I want to live in Ithilien with you? I would have to see you every day, knowing I could never have you! What makes you think–"

She never had a chance to finish the sentence. With her unwitting confession Legolas' eyes had widened, and then, knowing that words alone were not enough for her, he had struck out with one hand to catch her head and pull her close.

Mary's eyes grew large, his mouth crushing hers with warmth and meaning and desperation, saying what he could not.

* * *


	2. Erui Lú: First Time

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter Two

"_Erui__Lú" (First Time)_

* * *

In that moment, time seemed a frozen thing, held in one moment. Mary's eyes slid closed, a slow warmth spreading through her center and out into her limbs, and where his hand rested on her neck the skin was shivering and hot. Gently he kissed her, though at first it had been harder. The kiss was tender and strong, and some subtle sweetness and spice was on her lips, at once familiar and foreign. Suddenly a million things now made sense to Mary, and her heart soared within her at the thought of it. 

Pulling back Legolas' eyes were closed, his face barely hinting at his momentary loss of control as he attempted to collect himself. Then his eyes opened, and he had failed to return the mask to them, for they were now as deep as ocean pools, fathomless and full. There was love there, yet also there was remorse. "Forgive me." He said, dropping his hand from her neck as though it were a burning brand. A muscle worked in his jaw. "I should not– I should not have presumed–"

Mary's eyes flamed, but not with anger. By the Valar, she would dare to presume if he would not! Before Legolas could finish his words, Mary pulled on her reins, drawing Ædelstan to press against Arod, and she reached out boldly with her hand to catch the side of his face. The slight widening of his eyes at the forthright contact was not lost on her. "Hollen am." she said, her voice low and breathless. _Shut up._ Then she pulled him toward her, and leaned to him with an upraised face. Her kiss was gentle, but yet it was also hungry and full of fire. She had desired this for far too long: to have him return her affection. At first Legolas seemed frozen, inbred decorum and propriety reeling in shock, and were it anyone else he would have pushed them away and reminded them of their place. But she was not anyone else. And as far as Legolas was concerned, this was very much her place, and the ember in his chest flared and burned white hot in joyous exhilaration.

Soon, the urgency sated, the kiss became warm and slow. Yet the intensity and feeling was deeper than ever, savoring one another as they explored the sweetness and spice and taste.

The horses stood still beneath them, blinking patiently in the sunlight, sometimes giving a quiet gust of air as they waited. Then Mary placed her hand, small and warm, on his chest, and her lips pulled from his, and her head lowered so that her hair brushed against his nose and chin. He could not see, but her eyes were tightly shut as tears rose up, and she swallowed around a hard and painful tightness in her throat. "It's not fair." She whispered when she felt she could speak.

Legolas' hand held the back of her head, his fingers weaving themselves within her dark tresses. "What is, meld er?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Mary laughed then, but it was amidst tears as they spilled to her cheeks. "This." She said. "I have loved you for so long," she breathed. "Even before I met you I loved you most, of all in the Fellowship, and when I met you– I only loved you more." Her fingers fisted in the front of his shirt. "And it can't be."

She pulled back as Legolas' fingers freed themselves from her hair, and found his gaze on her marked by a frown. "Why?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.

"You're a prince! An elven prince!" Mary exclaimed, her dark eyes wide with distress and amazement that he did not understand the situation. "I _am_ nothing. I _have_ nothing. I am the _epitome_ of nothing– I make a beggar look rich! Even my clothes are borrowed. If you were to look up the word 'nothing' in a dictionary, it would say 'see Mary, page eighty-two.'"

Legolas frowned at the unfamiliar reference. "Aragorn also had nothing," he pointed out. "Yet look now at where fate has led him."

"Aragorn was also the heir to the throne." Mary responded shortly, taking up her reins as Ædelstan stirred beneath her, snorting and striking at the dirt with his hoof. "I have no such luck. I'm not even of noble birth. Your father would never allow it, much less your people."

Legolas sat still upon Arod, ignoring the horse– who had begun to toss his head, disturbed by the other horse's agitation. "I thought you knew little about the ways of the elves."

"Where I come from, in the medieval society, it was against the rules for anyone of noble blood– much less royal– to marry a commoner."

Legolas glanced to the side with a tolerant sigh. "Then I believe we are safe," he said, looking back at her with a tender and amused eye. "For you are anything but common, Mary."

She gave a disbelieving laugh, looking to the ground, but then she glanced at him again– and in her look was doubt. "Really?"

Turning Arod to draw them close together once more, Legolas looked into her eyes. "You can speak more than one language– the language of the elves, no less." He explained softly. "You can read and write. You are well versed in the history and knowledge of your world _and _Middle Earth. You can play stringed instruments–"

"Violins," Mary whispered.

"–as well as the greatest musician in any land." Legolas continued. "You are an able and skilled warrior, and able to dance and sing, and you have the bearing of a lady and know the manners of the court– which no commoner would know. And your knowledge of healing surpasses even the best physician."

"Liar."

Legolas knew she was thinking of Aragorn. "He only surpasses you in his knowledge of herbs," he said close to her, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "And that only because he has lived here. You will soon know as much."

Mary was quiet, eyes opening as his fingers left her skin. "But all of that is common knowledge where I come from." She pointed out slowly, though she looked up at him with hope.

"But not here." Legolas said. He was unsure of whether he was growing amused or exasperated with her doubt of her self-worth. "Do you honestly believe that anyone could think you were a commoner?" His hands reached out to cup her face, and his thumbs gently brushed away the dried salt from her cheeks. "Besides," he said, and his smile was warm. "You are a prophetess, to be honored and revered above all others." He set a silencing finger to her lips as she started to protest. "You are. For what else is a prophet, but one who speaks truth of what is to come? It matters not how the knowledge is gained, only that you have it." He leaned forward, and their foreheads touched. "Who else could be more worthy than you?" he whispered.

A smile played now upon her lips, and all doubt had washed from her eyes as his words reassured her. Then her brows pulled together in a slight frown as a thought occurred to her. "What of your father? Will he see as you do?"

Legolas smiled. "I am a prince." He said. "And soon shall move from my father's halls to Ithilien. If he does not approve, what can he do?" His eyes glinted with a teasing light. "And since when has the opinion of others stopped you from doing as you wish?"

Mary smiled. Her eyes looked on him with all the luminosity of the moon, and all the warmth of the sun, and as the ember burned once more in his chest Legolas wondered how he had ever lived without it.

* * *

Gimli paused his pacing to peer over the wall, and seeing nothing– though in the evening shadows it was hard to see anything on the plain– he huffed and resumed his pacing. Gandalf stood still and quiet, his eyes like black coals beneath his bushy brows, and absently blew smoke rings from his pipe. The hobbits sat in a circle, eating a snack they had brought with them of apples and cheese and bread with honey, and as they ate they played a game of riddles. After a long while Aragorn joined them, and stood beside Gandalf, his face grave.

"Has there been any sign of them yet?" he asked.

Gandalf shook his head. "No." he said, releasing another smoke ring.

"What if something has happened?" Gimli exclaimed, pulling at his beard as he paced. "That crazy elf left without a single thing to defend himself with!"

"He was going to find one whom he loved," Aragorn said. "Not to fight."

Gimli huffed. "Says you, my liege." He muttered. "But he may very well find both, and a fight with Mary is no small adventure."

Gandalf frowned, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps he _should_ have taken his weapons." He said quietly to Aragorn.

A smile played at the king's mouth.

Suddenly the dwarf gave a roar. "There! Curse this darkness– they are almost to the gate!" Turning to the hobbits Gimli disrupted their game and began to herd them to the stairs. "Hurry! We have just time enough to greet them when they enter!"

Gandalf and Aragorn followed as the group made their way quickly and with much clatter and noise and shouting back and forth down from the wall and through city, until they reached at last the city gates. Just as they approached a horn sounded, and two riders upon a white horse– with a dark horse following– entered the city. Mary sat before Legolas on Arod, his arms close around her, and as they rode through the gates the elf prince turned his face against her dark hair to kiss her temple, his elven eyes closed. Mary's face was fair, and her smile content. When her eyes fell upon the companions, they were dark and sparkling, and a blush was upon her cheeks.

"Greetings, friends, my lords." She said, brushing a stray strand of dark hair from her face.

"Greetings." Gandalf answered, and there was amusement in his voice. "I take it all has been mended?"

Mary blushed, and a smile touched Legolas's lips. "Indeed." Legolas said, and his fair eyes glowed.

"That is good to hear." Aragorn said. His relief at their safe arrival was masked by his knowing and joyful gaze. "Congratulations, my friends."

Frodo laughed, and a smile broke on Sam's face while Merry gave a crowing cheer. Pippin glanced around, his expression excited but unsure. "What is going on?" he asked. Then his eyes widened. "Are they finally getting together?" he asked his cousins.

"Ah!" Gimli clapped his large hands together, his eyes bright with satisfaction. "It's about time, lad. _And_ you, My Lady." He said, and laughed. "Ha ha!"

"Another wedding?" Pippin bounced, his eyes wide with excitement. "Merry! They're getting married!"

* * *

Legolas wandered the gardens of the palace, his bright eyes upturned to gaze at the stars above, their light pure and white in the endless blackness of the sky. Night birds sang softly to one another in the branches of the trees, and a fountain made gentle, crystalline music. Pausing a moment to close his eyes and breathe in the sweetness of the cool air, a quiet note reached his ears, rising and falling in a smooth melody. Listening closely he smiled, recognizing it, and followed the sound.

"We're both looking for something

We've been afraid to find.

It's easier to be broken,

It's easier to hide."

The stone walls rose up on either side as he left the garden, towering over him with ivy and vines spilling from their tops and hanging down in green showers, or crawling across the stones in a trailing pattern as they sought to reach the ground.

"I'm feeling alive all over again

As deep as the sky under my skin;

Like being in love, she said, for the first time.

Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right

where I belong with you tonight,

Like being in love to feel for the first time."

The stone passage opened up into a small courtyard with a high wall and a stone archway. Under this Legolas passed, and found himself in the main courtyard before the palace. The White Tree sapling stood tall and straight in the center, it's leaves dappled with shadow and with silver light, its pale snow-white flowers luminescent in the moonlight.

"The world that I see inside you

Waiting to come to life;

Waking me up to dreaming,

Reality in your eyes.

Looking at you, holding my breath;

For once in my life I'm scared to death.

I'm taking a chance letting you inside."

The sweet melody, swaying with strength and deep feeling, hung on the cool breeze that blew through the courtyard and across his face, brushing his cheek with its words like a soft caress. Legolas stepped out into the moonlight, his soft grey boots making no sound on the cobbled ground, still following the song.

"I'm feeling alive all over again

As deep as the sky under my skin;

Like being in love, she said, for the first time.

Maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right

where I belong with you tonight,

Like being in love to feel for the first time."

Her voice dropped to a hush, her dark eyes staring out across the shadowed plains and the mist that shrouded them in sleep.

"Like being in love to feel for the first time." Legolas sang quietly, approaching the maiden from behind. He saw a smile grace her face, the blue of her dress rippling in the breeze, and then she turned from leaning on the wall to look at him.

"Veduí, Héri Mary." He said, smiling. _Greetings, Lady Mary._

"Veduí, Haryon Legolas." _Greetings, Prince Legolas._

"A manen ceri-le bein hi dú?" he asked. _And how do you fair this night?_

"Man. A le?" _Good. And you?_

"Man." He answered. Then he smiled. "Lothron-n-lá morning man." _Good. Maybe more than good. _

Her smile was instant, and Legolas felt the ember in his chest glow with a gentle warmth. Reaching out he touched the dark hair that fell over her shoulder, his fingers feeling every strand and memorizing their touch and their smoothness, like silken threads.

"Aragorn says that Éomer will be arriving in a few days."

Mary nodded. "To bear Théoden to Rohan."

Legolas tipped his chin, and then his clear eyes roved over her face, taking in everything about her, as though he were seeing her for the first time. Her lips parted as he gazed at her, and he could see her breath quicken ever so slightly.

Breaking the moment, Legolas pulled his hand back, and joined her at the wall with his hands braced upon the top. For a moment they stood in relaxed silence, enjoying each other's company. Then suddenly she spoke, her voice hesitant.

"When you first heard the cry of the gulls," she said, staring out across the plains. "Did it draw you in– uncontrollably?"

Legolas glanced at her, and saw the uncertainty in her face. "Almost." He admitted. "But not entirely."

Her lips pressed together, her brows furrowing between her eyes. "Then– why did it for me?"

Legolas thought for a moment. "Perhaps because you are not of elven blood." He said slowly.

She glanced at him.

"I have not always felt the call of the sea, yet there has always been a seed of it in my heart." He said, attempting to explain even as he tried to understand it himself. "It is something that every elf is born with. So while the longing is very great when we first hear the cry of the gull, we are yet able to withstand those first pains. As a mortal, one who has never experienced such a thing and never expected to…"

Mary nodded. "That makes sense." She said, almost to herself.

Legolas looked at her, and his eyes were searching. "Do you feel it now?"

Mary sighed, yet her face was relaxed, her eyes turning to look towards the Anduin. "Yes." She said. "The feeling was stronger as I rode along the river. But I know it now. Like a hunger that you put in the back of your mind until you can finally eat." She looked at him and smiled. "I won't go wandering out into the middle of the river again. I promise."

He returned her smile, but his eyes darkened slightly with the memory of her walking into the rushing water, almost being swept away as the current rose up to claim her. He closed his eyes briefly, pushing the thought away, and brought himself back to the present moment, reminding himself that she was here, with him. When he looked at her again she was watching him tenderly, a smile in her eyes. Reaching up he brushed his thumb against her cheek. "Im mel-le." he whispered. _I love you. _

Her lips parted, and her eyes suddenly shone very bright. Blinking rapidly, the corners of her mouth rose. "Inye mel-le, Legolas. Sie meld." _I also love you, Legolas. So dearly. _

Legolas smiled then, one of his rare, full smiles that spread across his face and lit his eyes like the sun, and he leaned down, holding her face in his hands, and kissed her.

* * *

In three days, as Aragorn had said, Éomer of Rohan came riding to the City, and with him came an _éored_ of the fairest knights of the Mark. He was welcomed; and when they sat all at table in the Great Hall of Feasts, he beheld the beauty of the elven queen and the Lady of Lórien and was filled with great wonder. And before he went to his rest he sent for Gimli the dwarf.

"Gimli Glóin's son," he said, standing tall before him. "Have you your axe ready?"

Gimli looked at him, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Nay, lord, but I can speedily fetch it if there be need."

"You shall judge," Éomer answered. "For there are certain rash words concerning the Lady in the Golden Wood that lie still between us. And now I have seen her with my eyes."

Understanding lit Gimli's gaze, and he straightened, squaring his shoulders proudly. "Well, lord." He said. "And what say you now?"

"Alas! I will not say that she is the fairest lady that lives."

Gimli's eyes darkened. "Then I must go for my axe."

"But first I will plead this excuse," Éomer said, raising his hand. "Had I seen her in other company, I would have said all that you could wish. But now I will put Queen Arwen Evenstar first, and I am ready to do battle on my own part with any who deny me." He paused. "Shall I call for my sword?"

Legolas, who had been standing not too far off, turned when he heard those words, yet as he made to cross the room and intervene Mary laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Darth-a ethiri." she whispered. _Wait and watch. _

Gimli smiled at Éomer's words, and he bowed low. "Nay, you are excused for my part, lord. You have chosen the Evening; but my love is given to the Morning."

When at length it came time to leave, the knights of Rohan gathered with their captain, and with them went the Fellowship and Queen Arwen, and Celeborn and Galadriel and their company, and Elrond and his company, and Faramir and his men, and many captains and knights of Gondor, and together the great host bore Théoden from the City in silence and in reverence. Merry, being Théoden's esquire, sat upon the wain where the king rested, and he bore the king's weapons and arms.

As they traveled, Mary and Legolas rode side by side on Arod and Ædelstan, with Gimli riding behind the elf, and they spoke of many things and at length. On the third day of their journey Legolas rode ahead to speak and visit with Aragorn and his queen, and Mary rode alone and silent, lost to her own thoughts, her cloak wrapped close around her shoulders and covering her dark dress.

"It is well, to see such joy upon the face of one usually so grave."

Mary started at Gandalf's voice, and turned to see him riding beside her on Shadowfax. Looking ahead she saw Legolas, with Gimli behind, speaking with Aragorn, and there was laughter on his fair face as the dwarf's voice rose in protest, and the king laughed too. She smiled. "Yes, it is."

Gandalf looked ahead. "Oh. Yes. Legolas was always such a serious elf, less prone to the usual carefree nature of his people." His grey eyes turned to her. "But I was speaking of you."

Mary looked at him in surprise, then she dropped her gaze and she laughed, conceding his point.

"I have meant to speak with you for quite a while now." The wizard said. "It is a shame it has taken till now to find the time."

"Yes. Well," Mary tipped her head and shrugged. "Much has happened of late."

"Indeed it has." Gandalf agreed. "I am most curious. I have heard about your arrival many times over from our friends, yet there is much I still wish to know, and much I wish to ask. I wonder at your life before. What differences between your culture and here there might be."

Mary's eyes widened slightly, and her mouth opened to speak, but she could find no words, and she laughed at herself. "There is so much," she said. "I do not know where to begin."

Gandalf smiled. So he proceeded to ask her many things, and she answered them as best she could, and in this way another three days passed. She spoke of the many machines of her world, and of electricity, and of water systems and ships and airplanes and of cars. She spoke of the many different businesses and of politics and the history of her world– the wars and the times of peace and the creation of a great new country where people were free to live as they chose, and of the good things and the bad things of such a place. Then they spoke of her own life, and she told of her parents' death, and of the many homes she lived in as she grew up, and how the writings of Tolkien gave to her a place to run to where she could be safe.

"It is not that my life was hard, or the people who raised me unkind." She said quietly. "But it is hard to be a child with no father or mother, and even harder to wait and hope that someday, someone might want you for their own, only to realize that no one does. I found solace in reading of people who were connected by so great a bond of friendship that not even death could break it."

Gandalf was silent, his grey eyes piercing under his wild brows as he studied her.

She laughed, then. "It's almost as though fate willed it, isn't it? As though fate made it so that the one person to fall into this world would leave nothing of value behind, would not have loved ones who would grieve."

"Ah. That is one last question I wish to ask of you, my lady." Gandalf said, and his voice was quiet and grave, and though his eyes were searching they were kind. "Now that the war is over and won, and all is set right, do you not wish to return to your home? There are not the dangers there that there are here, it seems, and there is much there to make life as comfortable as can be." His grey eyes held her. "So I ask, now, at the end of all things, do you not wish to return?"

Mary at first said nothing, gazing into his eyes for long moments, before looking down to study her hands in quiet thought. Then a smile, slow and sure, spread across her face, and when she looked up again, there was no doubt in her countenance. "No. Not even if there is a way." she said.

"And why is that?"

Mary looked ahead, and as her gaze fell on Legolas her eyes brightened, and love shone in them for all to see. "Because compared to what I have here," she said. "There I have nothing. The _epitome_ of nothing." And then she laughed as though at some private jest, and it seemed to Gandalf that Legolas as he rode ahead seemed to laugh as well, as though he had heard her words and shared in the jest.

Then Gandalf smiled, and he nodded in satisfaction. "That is good." He said, and then his eyes twinkled merrily, for he had a jest of his own.

It was on the fifteenth day of their journey that they finally arrived at Edoras in Rohan, and three days later they laid Théoden to rest beneath a mound of green grass and white evermind, together with his weapons and many other things that were dear to him in life, and then the Riders of the King's House rode round the mound on white horses, and sang a song of remembrance, and it moved even those who could not understand the tongue of Rohan.

At the feast that night was Éowyn, white and golden, and then it was announced by Éomer her brother of her betrothal to Faramir, and the steward and the lady stood before all with clasped hands, and there was a great cheer, and all drank and were glad.

As the minstrels sang and the men drank and danced, Mary stood to one side and watched it all with a smile, yet her eyes were sad, for she still felt grief over Théoden's death. Then she saw Éowyn coming towards her, dressed all in white with her hair falling golden down her back, and in her hands she held a great cup with wine. A small smile graced her fair features, but it trembled, and in her eyes was some emotion Mary could not read.

Reaching her, Éowyn held forth the great golden cup, and offered it to her. "Westu, Mary, hál." She said, and in her voice was a hint of some small hope. _Be thou, Mary, well._

Mary smiled at her, and took the cup from her hands, and held it up. "Westu, Éowyn, hál." She said in kind, and lifting the cup she drank.

As she lowered the cup and Éowyn accepted it, the lady looked upon Mary with wide and fearful eyes. "I have done you great injustice and harm." She said.

Mary shook her head. "No…"

"Indeed, I have." Éowyn said, and nodded. "My words to you were harsh and meant to wound. And I am shamed. The blame for my uncle's death is not yours, but belongs to the dwimmerlaik of Sauron. You have done much for my people and my kin, and I… I would ask your pardon, Lady Mary, and your forgiveness."

Tears filled Mary's eyes then, but she smiled and clasped Éowyn's hands which were upon the cup. "And I give it." She said. "At that time there was nothing but shadow and darkness, and the grief and loss of loved ones. Do not feel shame, Éowyn. It is forgotten."

Then Éowyn smiled as tears fell from her eyes also, and it seemed that the last shadow left her face, and all was as clear and bright as morning. "Now," she said. "Will you grace our halls once more, as my uncle once asked of you, and play for us?"

So Mary took up a fiddle, and all fell silent and waited, and the song she played upon its strings reached into their hearts and spoke of the wind across the plains and the strength and speed of the stallions that rode upon them, and of the sun rising great and golden in the eastern sky. And some were silent and grave, and some smiled, and some dreamt, and others wept.

When at last the long feast was over, those who were to go took leave of Éomer, who now was King. Aragorn and his knights, and the people of Lórien and of Rivendell, made ready to ride; but Faramir remained at Edoras, and Arwen remained also, and she said farewell to her brethren. None saw her last meeting with her father, Elrond, for they went up into the hills and there spoke long together, and bitter was their parting that should endure beyond the ends of the world.

At long last the company that set out arrived at Helm's Deep, and as they rested there Legolas kept his promise to Gimli and went with him to the Glittering Caves; and when they returned he was silent, and would say only that Gimli alone could find fit words to speak of them.

From there they journeyed to Isengard, and saw the beauty that was the garden Treebeard had planted there in place of all else, and there grew there orchards and trees and a stream ran through it. And after Gandalf had spoken long with Treebeard it was time for the company to part, all save Legolas and Gimli, who traveled through Fangorn Forest. And Mary went with them, and there learned much of the way of the elves and the trees and the relationship between them.

* * *

Gimli sat on Arod, and beside him on Ædelstan was Mary. Both waited patiently, gazing up into the trees, whose heavy branches and dark boughs hung low, and wove together like the woven knots carved upon the doorframes of the great hall in Edoras. They had been on their way to the edge of the forest, to leave and continue on to Mirkwood, when suddenly Legolas had pulled short and flung his gaze to the leaves above, as though a sudden noise had sounded in his ears, and then he had stood upon Arod's back and leapt into the branches and disappeared from view. Then there had been a deep groaning through the trees, heavy and rumbling and quiet like the purr of a cat. That had been an hour ago.

Gimli gave a heavy sigh. "Elves."

Mary just laughed.

There was silence for a moment more. "From here we shall travel on to Mirkwood, I presume?"

Mary's eyes stared up at the dark canopy above. "I do not know." She did not speak for a moment. "I am nervous about meeting his father, King Thranduil." She admitted.

Gimli glanced at her in surprise. "Why, Mary?"

Mary's gaze went to him, and she shrugged. "I worry I will not seem worthy to him, to marry his son." She paused. "I wish to make Legolas proud."

Gimli looked at her, and his eyes were kind. "You will, lass." He said, and his tone was sure. "You will. There is not a bone in your body that is not noble and full of grace. Any king would be a fool to refuse you as a wife for his son."

Mary flushed, her eyes grateful. "Thank you, Gimli."

He smiled. "You're welcome, Mary." Then he looked up and studied the trees in consternation. "Now where is that blasted elf?"

* * *


	3. Ambir A Míl: Hope and Love

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter Three

_"Ambir A Míl" (Hope and Love)_

* * *

Mary woke early in the morning, and for a moment did not move, gazing up at the dark canopy of leaves above her. A strange bird cried out in the distance, and a squirrel suddenly ran above her, leaping from one branch to the next and disappearing into the darkness with a clattering of leaves. She heard the quiet of the river, running smooth and clear through the forest of Mirkwood as though it had not a care in the world, and with a silent sigh she rose to her feet and went to it, feeling the dampness of the earth beneath her bare feet as she stood on the bank, and the water running clear and cold over her skin, freezing her to the bone as though it were made of ice. Silently she laid her parcel on the ground, and spread out a blanket, and then she stepped in, staying on the edge where the current could not catch her, and she lowered her fair and hardened body into its depths until it lapped at her chin. She shivered, but she held her breath and her nose and dipped under the surface, rising up with a gasp, water droplets spraying through the air as she shook her head, like crystal. Wiping the water from her eyes she reached for the bank and picked up a small bar of soap, wrapped in linen, which she had bought from a washerwoman in Edoras. With this she lathered her hands and her arms and shoulders, and washed herself, and then she rubbed it upon her hair and lathered her scalp. Tipping her head back she washed the soap away, and felt the cleanness of her skin and hair once it was gone. Then she reached once again for the bank, and in the parcel she pulled out a razor, and quickly used it till her skin was smooth and clear. Then, returning it to the parcel, she once more held her breath and disappeared under the surface. Rising, she shook her head, and spit out water, and then pulled a towel from the parcel, and rising from the water she wrapped it around herself and sat upon the blanket. A small bottle of oil she then withdrew, and with care she oiled her arms and her legs and her skin, and breathed in its scent like juniper berries. She had bought this too, in Minas Tirith, and saved it for just this day. 

When her skin was dry, and her hair only a little damp, a final time did she reach for her parcel. Upon the blanket she rested shoes and a dress, folded carefully, and then the small bundle she had carried with her when she had first left Minas Tirith, intent on leaving all behind. From this she withdrew the silver circlet with the golden leaves. Standing she let the towel fall, and she pulled the shoes upon her feet, and then lifted the dress. It was of a rich red, like the berries that grew in the forest in early autumn, and its silken material was soft against her skin. Upon her head she set the circlet, and then she gathered her things together and returned to camp. Gimli had left them a day earlier, to continue on to his home on the other side of Mirkwood.

As she neared their camp her thoughts strayed to the imminent meeting with Thranduil, and her stomach tightened and fluttered, and she paused a moment to take a breath.

"Le vanya." _You (are) beautiful. _

Mary jumped, every muscle in her body starting, and she turned with her hand over her heart to see Legolas standing behind her, a soft smile on his face. "Legolas! Le scared nin." she exclaimed, even as she smiled in relief. _Legolas! You _scared_ me. _

He looked at her in amusement. "So now you are mixing elvish with common speech?"

"I call it Grelvish." She said matter-of-factly. "Besides, I couldn't think of the word."

The corner of his mouth pulled to one side, and Mary smiled, then reached up and pushed his golden hair from his shoulder. Such actions were little things, but still she felt nervous doing them, as they seemed to be intimate– especially now, with Legolas.

His look was kind and warm with feeling as she withdrew her hand, and he caught it and held it, his fingers gentle upon hers. "Are you nervous?"

Mary nodded. "I am." She turned then, and walked away from him, and set her parcel upon Ædelstan, who stood ready for her. For a moment she was silent, her brows pulled together and her mouth pursed in pensive thought. "Legolas," she said quietly. "Do you have any siblings?"

Behind her Legolas eyed her curiously. "No, I do not." He was silent a moment. "My mother was killed by a band of orcs soon after I was born." He said, and his voice was distant with the memory.

Mary turned around, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry." She said. "I did not mean…" She stopped as he looked at her, his eyes reassuring, and smiled. Then her gaze dropped to the ground for a moment, and when she looked up her brows were together yet again. "It's just– it just occurred to me that he might not approve of his only son giving up his immortality."

For a moment Legolas's blue eyes widened, and then he laughed, and it filled the air clear and ringing. Mary stared at him in confusion, her mouth hanging open, and then she glanced over her shoulder, and then over the other one, and finally down at herself, and finding nothing amiss she turned to glare at him. "What?" she demanded, and her hand went to her cheek. "Do I have something on my face?"

Legolas shook his head, his laughter subsiding even as it remained in his eyes as he looked at her fondly. "Nay, meld er." He said. "Your face is as fair as ever. Yet I should have told you–" he walked to her, and took her hands in his even as she looked up at him with questioning eyes. "The day an elf binds their heart to a mortal is the day they forsake their immortality."

"But we have not yet wed."

"The ceremony is not needed for the binding to happen." Legolas explained gently.

Mary's eyes widened in sudden understanding, and amazement filled her gaze. "You have… And you are not…"

Legolas smiled, and gently held her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin. "No, Mary. I am not mortal."

She blinked, trying to understand. "But, I am. How…" her question trailed off.

"I do not know." Legolas said. "But then much has happened that I do not understand."

Then a light entered her eyes, and she laughed in relief, pressing a hand to her mouth as her eyes closed. "I was so afraid…" she whispered. Then, collecting herself, she lowered her hand and looked up at him. "I'm so glad."

He chuckled. Then, setting his hands to her waist, he lifted her onto Ædelstan so that she sat sidesaddle, and took up the reins in her hands. Swinging onto Arod's back Legolas guided him to her side, and he smiled. "Are you ready, meld er?"

Mary returned his smile. "I am."

As they rode along the banks of the river, Mary was silent, thinking. Then suddenly she asked, "When is your birthday? In Shire reckoning?"

Legolas glanced at her in surprise, his eyes seeming to glow slightly with starlight in the shadows of the forest. "I– why in Shire reckoning?"

"Because that is how I know dates and time." She admitted.

His brows drew together in thought. "You ask me a difficult question."

The corner of her mouth lifted. "You don't know when you were born?"

He studiously ignored the jest, which only served to make her laugh, and he shook his head. "It is not a calendar I am the most familiar with," he said. "But I believe… it would be the first month, on the ninth day."

Mary nodded. "January ninth. So in exactly four months, you will be…?"

Legolas glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, and then a slow smile spread across his face. Drawing Arod close to Ædelstan, he leaned over, and whispered in her ear. When he pulled back Mary leaned back and looked at him, up and down, and then she grinned. "You still look good."

Legolas laughed.

"And what of you?" he asked.

"Me?" Mary said. "Well, I'm not nearly so mature as you, but on November twenty-first I will be twenty-two." Then she frowned. "Or two and a score years. However you want to say it."

He nodded. "And how do you celebrate birthdays?"

"With cake and candles and presents." Mary answered immediately. She smiled. "There is a desert we make, and then we have these very, very small candles, and we put them in the top of the cake– the same number to match your age– and then you make a wish, and blow them out. If you blow all of them out, your wish comes true."

"And if not?"

"It doesn't."

He nodded. Then he looked above them, and straightened. "We have arrived."

Mary glanced up, but she saw nothing, yet she thought she heard movement in the branches above them, but the sound was so slight she could not be sure. Then ahead she suddenly saw a bridge that spanned the wide expanse of the river, and on the other side, flanked by beech trees that marched down to the water itself, were great stone steps and large stone doors with wrought metal upon them. The doors were open, and all upon the steps were gathered a great company of elves, and the king's guard stood upon the bridge on either side. Thranduil himself stood at the far end of the bridge, holding his carved oaken staff, and he wore a mantel of forest green, and upon his head he wore a crown of red berries and leaves. His golden hair gleamed in the torchlight, and his grey eyes were warm and glowing as they lit on his son. Spreading his arms wide he stepped forward with great joy, rushing to meet them as they reached the bridge and stepped onto it.

"Legolas, my son!" he exclaimed. "May Eru be praised!"

Legolas dismounted Arod and met his father, who enveloped him in a tight embrace. "Father!"

Thranduil closed his eyes. "Hannon in Valar le rinn-na nin!" he whispered_. Thank the Valar you (were) returned to me! _He pulled back and clasped his son's shoulders, and there were tears in his eyes. Then he looked up, and his gaze met Mary's, and releasing Legolas he stepped forward. "Suilaid, Híril Mary." He said. "Lí tulan darth-meren." _Greetings, Lady Mary. Your coming (was) most joyously awaited. _

Mary smiled, and bowed her head. "Inye darthan mín govanneth as glas, nin hir." _I also waited our meeting with joy, my lord. _

Legolas moved to her side, and lifted her from Ædelstan's back and set her lightly on her feet upon the bridge. His eyes were soft and reassuring as she looked up at him, and she smiled, then stepped forward. Thranduil took her hands in his, clasping them.

"We have heard much strange news these past few weeks," he said. "Here in the Green Wood. Yet none so strange or wonderful as the tale our messengers brought of the Prophetess and my son." He smiled as she blushed. "Come," he declared, releasing her with one hand to clasp Legolas' shoulder. "A feast has been prepared in celebration of your arrival!"

So with much laughter and singing and playing upon instruments they entered the elven king's halls, and Arod and Ædelstan were taken to the stables to be cared for. There was fruit and berries and nuts and wine, and meat upon great spits that turned over greater fires, and bread and sweet desserts that were rare and wonderful, and music and singing and laughter and dancing filled the halls and the forest beyond. Legolas told the story of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring to all of the great company, and he told of Mary, and she was held in reverence. Then, when all the story had been said, Legolas sat beside his father, and his face became grave.

"There is yet one more thing I would speak to you about, Father." He said.

Thranduil looked at his son, and saw that it was to be a serious thing he would say. "I am listening."

In a quiet voice Legolas spoke of his love for Mary, and hers for him. "I would wed her, Father." He said. "And I would do it with your blessing."

Thranduil regarded his son with serious grey eyes, his chin resting upon his fingers as he leaned back in his carved wooden throne. His chiseled, fair face revealed nothing of his thoughts, and for a moment Legolas felt doubt that his father would acquiesce. Yet Thranduil saw in Legolas's blue eyes the love that he bore, and he had seen it too in Mary's eyes as she had looked upon his son, and he smiled, and straightening he leaned forward and set his hand upon Legolas' arm. "Then wed her." He said. "And be blessed, my son."

Legolas smiled, and his heart was glad, and he clasped his father's hand in gratefulness. Then he turned to look across the hall to Mary, standing as a scarlet flame amidst a group of elves as she played upon a stringed instrument, and feeling his gaze she looked up and caught his eyes, and read there his joy, and she smiled as she realized the cause of it.

Thranduil patted his son's shoulder, his heart overflowing with pride and happiness, and then he stood. As he motioned with his hand Mary excused herself from the group of elves and came to him, and stood before him with Legolas. All in the hall grew silent, voices hushed. "This day we have gathered to celebrate the return of my son and your prince," Thranduil said. "But I would speak ere the night is over of tidings that have brought me great joy. Hear then all my guests, fair folk of the Woodland Realm, Legolas, my son and Prince of the Greenwood, has asked the Lady Mary, Prophetess and Healer, to be his wife, and she has accepted. Therefore, they shall be trothplighted before you all!" He looked at them both, and smiled. "May your days together be most blessed." He said.

Then the elves there gave a great cheer and drank to them and were glad, and garlands were brought to them, and wreaths of green leaves and berries were set upon their heads. Mary laughed and was merry, and Legolas was glad to see her filled with such joy.

Their marriage day was set for mid-winter, just before the start of the winter festivals. All in the Woodland Realm were glad, and the elves made much preparation, for Thranduil would have it be a celebration the likes of which had never before been seen in his kingdom or any other.

* * *

Mary wandered through the halls one evening, after the fall feasting, and as she did so she came across a statue of an elven maid. Her tresses were long and flowed over her shoulders and down her back, and she wore a crown of laurel, and her face was fair and her smile gentle. Mary paused before it, and studied the beautiful face, and she was sure she had seen the maiden somewhere before. 

Behind her there was a step, and Thranduil stood at her side, his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze as he looked upon the statue was quiet and thoughtful, as though lost in some distant memory. "Laegeryn." He said, and breathed in deep and released it, smiling softly. "Never have I loved so deeply as I loved Laegeryn."

Mary's eyes turned to him quickly, and widened slightly in realization.

Thranduil looked at her, and smiled. "You see her in Legolas, do you not? It is her beauty he shares, and her eyes. Her eyes were as blue as the sea, and her hair as dark as night. She loved the woods, but also she loved to travel and see new places and new people." He turned back to the statue. "It is her nature Legolas shares, also." He smiled still, but his eyes grew sad. "It was when Legolas was still but a child." He said quietly. "She was traveling to visit our kin in the Golden Wood, when a party of orcs attacked her company."

Mary said nothing, but her dark eyes never left the king.

"One of our border patrols heard the attack and sped to their side, and with their aid the orcs were defeated. But Laegeryn–" he paused as his voice faltered. "Laegeryn could not be saved," he said. "Though the healers used the full extent of their knowledge and skill."

Mary dropped her gaze. "I am sorry."

Thranduil turned to her, and he smiled. "You have her eyes." He said. "And her hair." He set a hand on her shoulder, and his gaze was warm and kind. "You make my son very happy." He said. "I have not seen such joy in him for a thousand years." He smiled again at her.

Mary blushed, and tipped her head. "Thank you, my lord." They were silent then, for a while, and then she asked: "Why is her likeness kept here, in this distant passage?"

At first Thranduil did not answer, and she was afraid she had angered him. Then he said: "The hurt of her loss has been ever like a thorn in my heart. For these many long years it has pained me to see her likeness, yet for a while now it has become less. Perhaps I am forgetting her."

Mary looked up at the statue, her mind pondering over his words, and it seemed to her that the statue of Laegeryn was almost alive as the torchlight danced across her face. "Set her in the light." She suddenly said, her voice soft and quiet. "Let her face be seen and remembered, and her memory cherished."

Later she found Legolas in the now empty Hall, sitting quietly and deep in thought before the fire in the great fire pit in the center. For a moment Mary waited, watching him, and saw how very much he looked like his mother. Legolas looked up at her, and smiled, and swiftly stood. Crossing the Hall he came to her side, and gently took her hand. "Suilad, melda." He said. _Greetings, beloved._

Mary smiled, and hesitating only a moment, reached up to gently touch his cheek. "Suilad, nin melethron." _Greetings, my lover._

The corner of his mouth lifted.

For a moment Mary just gazed at him. "Cerile enyalir mín erui govannen?" _Do you remember when we first met?_

Legolas nodded. "Le rúcin na nin." he said, then he smiled. "A maquenos núnaur." _You (were a) confusion to me. And (still) asking about birthdays._

She laughed. "Cerile anír hîn?" she suddenly asked. _Do you want children?_

Legolas stared at her, then nodded with a bemused expression. "É. Aiqua an ceri-maquenle ?" _Yes. Whatever for do you ask?_

She just smiled, her eyes shining at his response, and she set her hands to his shoulders, looking up into his face. "Man." she said. "Ten, sui firen, imuva tanca garlimb." _Good. Because, as (a) human, I'll surely have many._

* * *

Gimli rode beside Aragorn and Arwen, seated on a small dark pony that was old and patient and easy to guide. He pulled his great fur-lined cloak close about him, the deep red hood pulled over his head as snow drifted down in patches through the dark canopy overhead, leaving spots of dusted snow and pure white drifts here and there on the forest floor. All along the Old Forest Road, the path had been lined with green garland and wreaths of red winter berries. "It is a good season for them to be wed." Gimli said. 

"Indeed." Aragorn agreed, watching as a white stag suddenly leapt from the trees ahead of them and then stood in the center of the road, his dark eyes keen. Then he disappeared into the trees on the other side.

"There is a magic in the air." Arwen said, her grey eyes scanning the forest with wonder. She wore a silver crown upon her head with a white jewel at its center, which shone as a star upon her forehead.

"I have heard that there is going to be feasting for a week," Gimli said. "And there is to be music and dancing and wine, and gifts to all who attend."

Aragorn nodded, pulling his blue cloak with its grey fur lining close about him. He wore his winged crown, and was dressed in a tunic with the white tree and stars of Gondor upon his chest. "Thranduil is one who loves to feast and to celebrate," he said. "And Legolas is his only child."

"Hm." Gimli glanced above, and absently stroked at his carefully combed and braided beard, then took up the reins again with both hands. "Will we see the hobbits there, do you think?"

"Yes; and they are there already, with Gandalf too, I wager."

They arrived at the bridge, whose sides were also lined with garland and red berries, and there waited for them elven archers, and one of them held a horn to his lips and sounded a call that echoed through the forest. The great stone doors opened with a rumbling, and firelight and torchlight spilled out onto the snow in golden rays. The elven king came out, a crown of golden leaves upon his head and set with gems of red and green and amber, and behind him was Legolas and Mary, and the elven court.

A herald then moved forward on a grey horse, holding high the Western King's banner, and he cried: "Behold Aragorn son of Arathorn, The Elfstone, of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Bearer of the Star of the North, Wielder of the Sword Reforged. Behold the King of Gondor, Elessar, Lord of the West and ruler of Men!"

"Welcome, Elessar, King!" Thranduil spread out his arms. "Welcome to the Woodland Realm. May your time here be merry and blessed!"

When all such formalities had been observed, and Gimli greeted and welcomed in like manner, the entire host was led inside while the horses were taken and cared for, and Thranduil led his guests to the Great Hall where he offered them drink and a seat before the great fire in the center of the Hall. Against the wall, where the light was the strongest, was a tall statue of a fair elven woman, and upon her head had been laid a wreath of green with red berries. Before this stood four little people, gazing up at it and discussing the wreath.

"I don't know," Pippin said. "I think the wreath makes her look quite cheerful, don't you?"

"Yes; it does that." Sam agreed, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"I'm just saying it's a little odd to be putting wreaths that are supposed to hang on doors on statues heads." Merry said, shrugging his shoulders as he lifted his hands with their palms up.

Pippin looked affronted. "Well I only just thought of it this morning!" he said. "There wasn't exactly a lot of time to go and make one."

"I think it's festive." Frodo decided, looking up at the statue of Laegeryn and trying to contain his laughter as his cousins continued to bicker.

Gandalf entered the Hall and glanced at the hobbits, then shook his head in fond exasperation, and continued on across the room. "Aragorn! Arwen! Gimli." He said, holding out his hands. "It is good to see you again."

"Gandalf." Aragorn smiled, and the men embraced, and Gimli pushed back his hood and looked around in amazement at the intricate stone pillars of the elven king's hall.

"This is good work." He commented, pulling at his beard. "This place has good bones, good stone."

Thranduil bowed his head. "That is a high compliment coming from one who knows rock and stone better than any here."

Gimli looked at him in surprise. In truth he had expected more hostility from the elven king, especially given the history between him and Gimli's kin. He tipped his head. "I thank you for your hospitality, Thranduil, King of the Greenwood." He said. "May your halls be ever bright and your leaves ever green."

Legolas watched the exchange, and relief and contentment was in his face as it became clear that his talk with both Gimli, and then his father, had done a little to heal the rift between their two peoples. Mary, dressed in her scarlet and looking like a fire come to warm the Hall, slid her hand into his and leaned close. "Mae ceria, melnin." _Well done, my love._

"Aragorn! Gimli!" Suddenly the hobbits came running from across the Hall, with Pippin in the lead, and there was much laughter and talk as they greeted the new arrivals. When all had said hello Aragorn turned, his eyes searching, until he found Legolas and Mary. Smiling he walked to them, and they to him, and Gimli as well, and they all embraced and were glad.

That night Mary sat in her room, wrapped in a long towel of pale cream, her feet in a basin of water scented with oils. She had bathed, and now took up a jeweled comb and proceeded to run it through her long, dark tresses. There was a quiet knock on her door. "Ai na ha?" she called. _Who is it?_

"Ha na Arwen." _It is Arwen._

"Oh! Tulesse." _Oh! Come in._

The door opened, and the fair, dark-haired elven queen entered, and closed the door behind her. She approached Mary, a small smile upon her face. "How are you?"

Mary chuckled. "Nervous." She admitted.

Arwen smiled. "Yes," she nodded, pulling up a stool and sitting on it. "Tomorrow is an important day. A good day."

Mary nodded, holding the comb in her lap. "I have loved him for so long." She confided quietly, and happiness shone in her eyes. "When I lived in my old world, and I read Tolkien's record of the War– I felt as if I knew him."

Arwen listened, her eyes soft.

"I fell in love with him then." Mary laughed. "A character, in a story. Then I found myself here, and when I met him–" she shook her head. "He was everything, and nothing, like I thought he would be. I just–" she smiled. "I cannot believe that tomorrow, I shall _wed_ him. It is greater than I could have dared to hope!"

Arwen smiled, her grey eyes shining with understanding. "You are blessed to have found such happiness."

A blush crept into Mary's cheeks, and she smiled. "Do you wish to see the ring I have for him?" she asked suddenly.

Arwen nodded.

Pulling her feet from the basin, Mary stood and went to a small table, leaving wet foot prints on the floor. On the table rested a small mirror, her circlet, and an ornately carved wooden box. Opening the box she pulled out another, very small wooden box, with three carven leaves on the lid, and this she carried back to Arwen, and sat down on the edge of her chair, and opened it. Within was a silver ring, set with forest green emerald, with wrought silver knotting and weaving across it as a flowering vine. And within there were words, cunningly engraved: 'Ambir Nai Cuilo Míl.'

_Hope is the Life of Love._

Arwen held the ring gently on the palm of her hand, and then with her fair fingers as she read the inscription. "Írima." She said, her grey eyes alight with approval. "A most beautiful ring, Mary." She said, handing it back.

Mary took it, and for a moment her eyes faltered. "Do you think he will like it?"

Arwen laughed, and it was light pure music ringing softly through the air. "Yes, Mary." She said. "It is a ring most beautiful."

Mary smiled in relief, and put it back in the box and closed the lid, and held it in her hands. "I wasn't sure." She admitted. Then she laughed. "Though I suppose the night before is a little late to be asking such a question. What could be done?"

A smile graced Arwen's face, and she stood. "Idhesse sídh, Mary." She said. _Rest in peace, Mary._

Mary looked up at her gratefully. "Idh mae, Arwen." _Rest well, Arwen._

After the elven queen had left, Mary returned the ring to her jewelry box, and then laid the towel across the back of the chair and slipped her nightdress on, and laid down upon her bed and pulled the blankets over her. At first she did not believe she could sleep, but soon her dreams closed her eyes, and she rested.

* * *

All within the halls was chaos and activity as servants rushed from here to there finishing the last minute preparations. Garlands were strung and fires blazed and the kitchens set bread and sweet desserts to cooking and pudding to boiling and meat to roasting, and Galion, Thranduil's butler, brought up the king's best wine from the cellars. Nuts and dried fruits and berries were set out on great platters, and baked into sweet treats and puddings. Birds and other beasts were stuffed with nuts and savory herbs and basted in rich sauces and set over fires. 

Thranduil, dressed in all his finest of green and red, found Legolas still in his rooms. He had dressed in soft boots of grey and a blue shirt, and was now tying closed a pure white robe embroidered all over with leaves and flowers and trailing vines. His golden hair hung shining down his back, with only a single braid to hold it back from his face, and was clasped at the end with a silver oak leaf. "Are you not yet ready, Legolas?" Thranduil asked.

"Nay. But give me a moment more, and I will be." Legolas answered, looking up as he secured a white belt about his waist, embroidered all with blue thread.

Thranduil smiled, and going to the bed he took up the outer robe with its shorter sleeves that were made to resemble leaves. It was all the palest blue, and embroidered with silver thread along the edges where it laced shut, and along the high collar. Holding it up Thranduil helped his son to put it on, and lace it, and at the collar was set a small silver broach.

Then upon his head Thranduil set a silver circlet, the same he had worn at Aragorn's wedding, and then he looked upon his son and smiled. "Now you are ready." He said.

Legolas held up a finger, and he turned to a small table, on which rested a small ornately carved box, and this he took up in his hand.

"Is that the ring?"

Legolas nodded, and opened the box for his father to see. In it was a ring of mithril, set with white and shining stones all in a cluster with a diamond at the center, so as to resemble a cluster of stars. And within was inscribed: 'Sui Ambir Na naMíl, Ná Le Na Nin.'

_As Hope Is To Love, So You (Are) To Me. _

Thranduil held the ring, his eyes glowing with approval and appreciation. "This is good work. Rauddan has outdone himself." He said. And he handed the ring back to Legolas, and smiled. "You have done well, Legolas."

"Thank you, Father." Legolas returned the ring to the box, and set it in the band of his belt, then he stood for a moment, and said nothing, yet a sadness passed over his face. "I wish Mother were hear to see this day." He finally said quietly.

Tears shone in Thranduil's eyes, and he set his hands to Legolas's shoulders. "So do I, my son." He said, and his voice was thick. "So do I." And for a moment they stood there together, sharing in their grief, and then they straightened and set it aside, and the light of joy and excitement filled them, and Legolas's eyes began to burn with some inner fire, and he smiled.

"I am ready."

The Hall was full, from one wall to the next, and spilling into the halls beyond. Never before had there been a gathering such as this before in the Woodland Realm, nor was there to be again. Firelight and torchlight filled the room with a golden glow, and Aragorn and his queen, Gandalf and the hobbits, and Gimli all stood at the front of the gathering, facing the elven king's wooden throne. Thranduil arrived with Legolas, and all in the Hall grew quiet. Yet Thranduil did not speak, but rather stood before his throne, with Legolas before him, and he watched a door to his right with anticipation. The door opened, and there was a breath from the crowd, and the hobbits' eyes grew wide, for through it stepped a vision. She was dressed all in crushed white velvet, and her sleeves were winged and sheer and brocaded at the top and encrusted with pearls, and all along her neck was brocade and pearls. She wore a mantle of star-strewn white. Her hair hung long and dark down her back, and upon her head she wore mithril wrought in the likeness of a butterfly, with stars upon it and hanging into her hair, and upon her forehead. Forward she came, and her eyes were bright, and a smile was upon her face. Legolas's gaze grew intense as he looked at her, and warm with love, and he smiled as she stood before him.

"This day we have gathered here, and never has there been a gathering so great as this, to bear witness to the marriage of my son and your crown prince, Legolas, and his bride, the Lady Mary." Thranduil said. Then he turned to Legolas, and motioned with his hand.

Legolas removed the box from his belt, and took from it the ring, and as he set it upon her finger he said: "Im Legolas, estathar le Mary, sui hervess nín. Gerich velethnín a guil nín al lû bân. This I promise before Eru Ilúvatar." _I Legolas, will name you Mary, as my wife. You have my love and my life for all time._

Mary smiled, and was radiant, and then she held up her ring, which she had held carefully in her hand, and as she placed it upon his finger she repeated: "Im Mary, estathar le Legolas, sui hervennen nín. Gerich velethnín a guil nín al lû bân. This I promise before Eru Ilúvatar." _I Mary, will name you Legolas, as my husband.You have my love and my life for all time_.

Then she pulled from her belt a jewel most beautiful, set into a broach, and of the color of the forest, and she said: "I know it is the custom for the bride's mother to give a jewel. But I have no mother. So I give you this jewel, Legolas, to wear, as a sign of my love for you."

Then Thranduil raised his hands, and set them upon their heads. "Now you are promised to each other as husband and wife." He smiled, and his joy was great. "May your days be blessed."

Mary smiled, and there were tears of happiness in her eyes then, and as the Hall erupted into cheering and singing and music, Legolas took her face gently in his hands. "Im mel-le." he whispered, his lips curved in a gentle smile. _I love you. _

Her lips parted, and her eyes shone. Smiling, her cheeks flushed, she gently touched his cheek. "Inye mel-le, Legolas. Sie meld." _I also love you, Legolas. So dearly._

Legolas smiled then, his slow, full smile that spread across his face and lit his eyes like the sun, and he leaned down, holding her face in his hands, and as the Hall celebrated around them, he kissed her.

* * *


	4. Óre Anír: Heart’s Desire

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter Four

"_Óre Anír" (Heart's Desire)_

* * *

The feasting carried on long into the night. Wreaths of green winter leaves and red berries were placed upon the heads of Legolas and Mary, and they were given spiced wine in great cups of silver and gold. Wine flowed and music played, and as the fires burned high and the tables were cleared of food Merry and Pippin rose to their feet and held their silver goblets, and as they danced above all to a merry song their voices soon rose, and then Frodo's and Sam's with them as they sat below and watched: 

"Sing hey! For the meal at end of day

That drives the hunger clean away

A loon is he that will not sing:

O! Food that's hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of blowing snow

And the river that leaps from mount to low

But better than snow or rippling streams

Is Soup that's hot and smokes and steams!

O! Water cold we may pour at need

Down a Thirsty Throat and be glad indeed

But better is Beer, if drink we lack

And Blanket warm wrapped round the back!

O! Water is fair that leaps on high

In a fountain white beneath the sky

But never did fountain sound so sweet

As Song that to dancing sets my feet!"

The elves laughed and clapped their hands, and Merry and Pippin saluted one another with gracious and extravagant bows. As they continued to dance and to sing a group of elves came in from the kitchens, and they bore on a great tray a towering dessert. It was a cake made with sweet spices and fruits and nuts, and it had winter flowers all around its base and upon its top, and it was covered all in a thick creamy coating as thick as butter and the color of pale gold, for it was made of whipped butter and honey and cream. Mary's eyes grew large, and she laughed and clapped her hands, her cheeks flushed with joy. Legolas was glad, sharing a secret smile with his father, for they had made it especially for her after carefully and subtly learning from her the secrets to making such a dessert. It was set before them on the table, and Legolas stood with Mary. Taking a knife he carefully cut a very small piece from it, and then held it up for her to take a bite. She did so, and laughed, the creamed 'frosting,' as she called it, gracing her lips with a pale golden mustache.

Then the cake was cut. The guests marveled at it, for it was a strange dessert to them, yet delicious and wonderful. Mary allowed herself to have a large portion of it, and as she ate her eyes closed in quiet enjoyment.

At last all the food and the dessert was eaten, and then the musicians and the minstrels struck up some merry melodies, and the tables were cleared away, and everyone began to dance. Then Legolas touched Mary's arm gently, and holding her hand he bowed to his father, who tipped his head and his hand with a smile, and then Legolas led her from the room and to a small back door in the Hall, where they slipped away unnoticed by their guests.

The corridors were all hung with garlands and wreaths, and torches burned brightly in their brackets. Legolas and Mary made their way deeper and deeper into the Elven Halls, and the sound of music and singing became fainter and fainter until it faded away all together. A final hallway came before them, and it was all quiet and still, and torchlight flickered red on the walls, dancing and playing hide-and-seek with the shadows. The door at the far end stood open, and garlands of red berries and winter flowers and green framed it, with red flowers petals on the floor before and within. Legolas stopped, and turned to her. Now a light entered his eyes, and Mary felt her breath catch within her. His arms encircled her and lifted her up, holding her close to his body, and as he walked she felt the warmth of him soak into her and spread through her limbs.

As he stepped through the doorway the golden light of the fire surrounded them, and he gently set her down, the white velvet of her dress sliding through his hands with a rustling sound. His blue eyes burned into her, never leaving her face as he reached back and closed the door. Mary suddenly felt her stomach tighten and a trembling took over, for suddenly– though it had been as real to her before as real could be– now it was ever more so, and as he approached her she knew that this was the final moment, the moment where everything changed.

Legolas stepped towards her, and the ember in his chest burned hot and deep. Mary stood there, watching him with dark and shining eyes, and there was a flush in her cheeks and upon her lips. As he took her face in his hands and drew close he felt her breath quaver. "Le sie vanya." _You (are) so beautiful._ He whispered, kissing her forehead. His voice was without breath. "Sie írima." _So lovely._ He kissed her cheek. "Melnin." _My love._ He kissed her other cheek. "Im mel-le." He breathed. _I love you._

Mary's eyes slid closed as he kissed her, the skin of her neck and shoulders hot and tingling where his hands rested. Reaching up she traced his face with her fingers, and as his eyes closed she slid her hand around through his hair to the back of his neck, to hold it as she placed a kiss upon his cheeks, and then upon his lips. As though that were the trigger, the moment her lips met his Legolas came alive. His hands found her sides and ran up her back, holding her close against him, and his mouth on hers was burning and longing. Reaching up Mary removed the garlands from their heads and let them fall to the floor. Then she tangled her fingers in his golden hair.

"Im mel-le." she whispered. _I love you._

* * *

"I didn't know that elves could be quite so merry." Pippin's voice came from a hall, growing louder as they drew closer. 

"You saw the elves at Rivendell, Pippin." Sam said. "They were merry enough. Remember the night Bilbo recited his song?"

"Yes, but they didn't get _quite_ so festivious."

Merry's voice cut it with a laugh. "Did you see Gandalf and Thranduil dance?"

Frodo's hearty laugh filled the air. "I've never seen anything like it before!"

Mary and Legolas paused at the door to the Hall, turning as the hobbits rounded the corner and nearly bumped into them. "Oh! Hello!" Pippin greeted them.

"Hello, Pippin." Mary smiled. "Frodo, Sam, Merry."

"Mary. Legolas." Frodo returned her smile, his blue eyes bright. "And how are you two this day?"

Legolas glanced at his wife. "We are well." He said, a teasing light in his eye, and Mary blushed.

Frodo chuckled.

"So," Merry glanced around them at the closed door, with sounds of festivities emanating from around the dark wood. "You ready to face another night of your guests' undivided attention?"

They laughed. "I think we can manage." Mary said, nodding seriously.

The hobbits looked pleased. "Right." Sam took a deep breath. "Shall we go, then?" he looked up with bright, expectant eyes.

Legolas opened the door, and they were immediately met with a thunderous sound of applause and cheers. Holding Mary's hand upon his, they made their way into the room to be instantly surrounded by elves and friends. The day had been spent playing winter games and reciting songs and poetry and stories of old, and this was how much of the week would be spent. Now there was to be music and dance and good food, and then the beginning of the giving of presents.

There were many gifts given to them. Fine linens and jewels and gems, goblets and plates and platters and dishes of silver and gold, finely woven blankets and tapestries and wine and seed for planting in their fields in Ithilien. Thranduil gave them gold, and a banner for their house, shining with a golden sun, and within the sun there was a green tree rising from a blue and silver sea, and beneath it was a crescent moon– the symbol of Ithilien. Then for each he brought forth their own personal banners. For Legolas there was a green tree on a diamond shaped banner of white, framed by woven vines and four leaves, and flanked by two elven-knotted crescent moons. Mary's was a brilliant yellow sun on a silver background, with a single white Athelas flower blooming within, its petals reaching out to touch the sides.

Then the four hobbits approached them. Merry and Pippin kept glancing at each other and Mary and Legolas, grinning and moving restlessly. Frodo was calm and smiling, while Sam's cheeks were pink and his gaze shy and nervous.

Mary and Legolas smiled at them, and Mary came to stand before them, dressed all in her snowy white and crowned with a green wreath and red berries. "Hello, my friends." She whispered to them, and winked.

Sam blushed, and the others grinned. "We do not have gifts as grand as those you have already received," Frodo said. "But they are given from our hearts." He nodded, and Merry and Pippin excitedly handed her the box they had been carrying. It was longer than it was wide, and made of wood, and had vines and flowers carved upon its lid. Carefully Mary opened it, and drew in a breath of surprise, her eyes lighting with pleasure. From within the red velvet interior she withdrew a beautifully hand carved stringed instrument– a violin– made of dark wood, with vines and flowers inlaid with a pale golden wood. It's bow was the same, and made with pure white horse hair.

"It is beautiful!" Mary said, running her fingers across it, tracing the delicate designs and the smooth curves of its shape. "Thank you!"

The four hobbits glanced at one another in pleasure and satisfaction, and then Frodo and Merry and Pippin gave Sam a little nudge forward. Clearing his throat, Sam took a step toward Legolas, holding in his hands a small carved box with three leaves upon the lid. "Um, we weren't all sure what to get for you, Mister Legolas," he said. "Seeing as how you're an elf and all."

There were some scattered chuckles. Legolas smiled.

"But then we remembered you were going to live in Ithilien," Sam continued, and his eyes brightened. "So– well, here." He handed the tall elf the box. "We thought you might like to take a little of the Shire with you."

Legolas opened the box, and a small smile touched his lips when he saw what was inside. There were very small pouches, each very carefully laid side by side and labeled, resting on a bed of dirt.

"Snapdragons, Cornflowers, Starwort, Bellflowers, Larkspur, Lilies, and Lady's Mantle." Sam said proudly. "The best flowers in all of Hobbiton, from Master Frodo's own garden. There's also seeds in there for apple and cherry trees. You won't get any better fruit than from those trees."

Legolas smiled and closed the box as murmurs of approval surrounded them, elves nodding their heads as words of "most appropriate" and "a fine gift" reached their ears. "Thank you, my friends." Legolas said. "This will be most appreciated when we make our home in Ithilien."

Sam blushed with pleasure, and ducked his head while Merry and Pippin grinned. Frodo smiled and leaned close. "Told you it was a good idea you had, Sam." He whispered.

As the hobbits sat down, a tall bearded man in a great cloak with the white horse of Rohan upon his breast stood and approached them, bowing on one knee before them, and behind him came and knelt a younger man in similar dress. "My lord and lady," he said. "I come from Edoras, and am called Ulrik, a captain of the Rohirrim, and this is my son, Vilhelm, a Rider of the Mark. Éomer, King, and the Lady Éowyn send their greetings, and bid me tell you of their desire to be here and their sadness that they cannot." Turning he indicated the table where the gifts were being laid. "They send gifts. Bridles and saddles made by our most skilled craftsman, made of the finest tooled leather and silver."

Indeed, the bridles and reins and saddles and other gear were of the finest quality, and all had trappings of green velvet.

"They send their blessings, and the prayer that your lives together may be long and filled with joy." Ulrik bowed his head, his message finished.

"Thank you, Ulrik, Captain." Legolas said. "And Vilhelm, Rider of the Mark. Please send our greetings to your king and his lady, and our thanks for their gifts and their blessing."

Then Ulrik and Vilhelm bowed once more, and rising to their feet they returned to their place in the throng of guests. Then Aragorn and Arwen approached, and the elven queen held in her hands something long and slender, and wrapped in a black cloth. Aragorn tipped his head, and then he laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder and smiled. "Never have I seen you so happy, mellon nin." He said, his voice low so that only Legolas heard. Then he looked at both his friend and Mary. "May you both be blessed." They smiled at him, and Legolas tipped his head in thanks. Then Aragorn raised his voice, so that it was no longer a whisper. "My understanding is that you have in your possession two fine stallions, worthy enough to be bred only to the finest mares."

Legolas smiled. "Indeed."

Aragorn's grey eyes twinkled. "So I have gathered together _twelve_ of the finest mares, all prized for their quality and stock, so that you may begin a herd of your own for you and your household."

There were gasps around them, and Mary laughed and pressed a hand to her mouth, and even Legolas drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening in surprise at the enormous show of generosity and friendship. For a moment he could find no words, and then finally a smile broke across his face and he laughed at his own inability to express himself. "I do not know what to say, Aragorn!" he said, and he clasped Aragorn's shoulder. "Thank you, mellon nin." He said, and his voice lowered, and there was deep gratitude and feeling within it.

Aragorn smiled. "You are most welcome."

Then Arwen turned to Mary, and she smiled, her grey eyes shining. "You are as a sister to me." She said. "And ever am I grateful that you soon shall come to dwell so close to Minas Tirith." She held up the item wrapped in black cloth, which she held in her hands, and gave it to Mary. "A Healer you are, Mary, and a Prophetess. But also you are a warrior, and a Shield Maiden. So I give to you Ára-oNaur, Hope from the Shadows, a Light in the Dark. Crafted by the last elven smiths that still dwell in Lórien, its jewels set by the Lady herself."

Then Mary let the black wrappings fall away, and in her hands she held a sword that gleamed like white fire, with runes upon the blade and a jewel of yellow flame upon the handle. And where the blade and handle met there were flames etched, with a ring of fiery gems. Then it seemed to all there that Mary's eyes suddenly burned with fire, and she was no longer the quiet and fair lady who laughed and danced with them, but a warrior maiden, both terrible and beautiful, and her hands grasped the sword and held it as though it had become but an extension of herself. Then the fire retreated, and she was once more the Lady Mary, and she looked upon Arwen and smiled. "It is a most desirable and precious gift." She said, her eyes shining, and she hugged the fair elven queen. "Thank you, onóre nin." ..._my sister._

Arwen's embrace tightened, and when she pulled back her eyes were shining, and tears glittered in Mary's. Then Arwen gave her also the scabbard, which was the color of a burnt sun, and tipped at both ends with silver, and on the side– held by straps– was a long, thin-bladed white knife that was a smaller twin of the sword.

Last of all Gimli came forward, dressed in all of his dwarven finery, his hair and beard carefully brushed and braided. He carried with him a chest, with handles on each end and a lock upon the lid. Setting the chest on the table, beside where they stood, he pulled a key from his belt and set it into the lock. There was a soft click as the key turned, and then Gimli lifted the great lid back.

"It is a great irony, my lady Queen," he said. "That you chose a yellow stone– which symbolizes the dawn– for the Lady Mary." And he turned, and held in his hand a silver chain. Upon the chain hung a large Ocean Pearl. At the bottom was a small stone of black, and up the left side there rose gems that started at the darkest of amber and lightened to the palest of yellow, until they reached the white stone that stood at the head; then down the right side of the pearl the gems faded from the palest of grey to the darkest, until at last they reached the black stone, completing the circle of the sun's rising and rest. "For you, Mary." He said, holding it out and setting it in the palm of her hand. "As a symbol of the hope you give even as the rising sun brings hope. And this," he reached into the chest, and withdrew a phial of hewn crystal, capped with mithril. "To keep your choice of scented oils in. I took the liberty of filling it with oil scented with the berries of the juniper."

Mary took it happily, and she glanced knowingly at Legolas from the corner of her eye; how else could Gimli have known she needed such a thing? Or what scent she wore? She smiled, for though Legolas's expression remained unchanged, the slightest hint of a flush had entered his cheeks. "Thank you, Gimli." She said, and hugged him tightly. "I will cherish them always."

As she set the necklace around her neck, she noticed Gimli's eyes light with pleasure, though he quickly hid it and turned back to the chest.

"For you, Legolas." He said. "You kept my nerves on edge enough with your refusal to wear any armor on the grounds that it was 'too cumbersome!'"

There were some scattered chuckles. Legolas dutifully ignored the jest, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and a devilish light entered his eyes.

"So I took the liberty of solving the problem." There was a collective gasp as Gimli removed his hands from the chest, lifting from it a mithril shirt, larger than the one Frodo wore– though just as finely made, and he held it up. "I have heard it said that once one puts it on, it can hardly be felt."

Frodo smiled as Gimli glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Legolas reached out and accepted the shirt from Gimli, and his eyes were large and filled with wonder. "Gimli–" he breathed, fingering the mail with amazement. "I do not know what to say!"

A warm light entered Gimli's eye, and then a mischievous smile appeared, lifting his beard. "Indeed?" he said, and he began to laugh. "That is twice in one day! A record for any elf!"

If there was a moment of hesitation as others watched the prince with wide eyes, waiting to see his reaction, it did not last long, for Legolas looked up and laughed with Gimli, and soon all in the room had joined. "Indeed!" he chuckled, not seeming to mind the jest.

When the laughter had subsided, Gimli reached into the chest for a final time, and took from it three goblets. Two were of mithril, a tree rising up with its branches spreading out to hold the crystal that formed the cup, and precious stones had been carefully set so as to resemble leaves. The third was the same, only its trunk was short, and its cup wide and a little less deep. "For you both." Gimli said. "No prince and his lady should be without cups to toast in. And no home should be without a Cup of Greeting, to offer to guests when they arrive."

"Gimli–" Mary accepted one of the cups, while Legolas took the other two. She turned it over in her hands with wonder, tracing the branches and the jeweled boughs, and then looked up. "You have been too generous, dear friend." Gimli merely huffed and waved his hand.

"I have not the words, or else I would give a speech as eloquent as any elf. But alas! I am but a dwarf." He lamented, but his eyes twinkled with merriment, and there were chuckles at his jest, especially from Thranduil. Then his voice grew deep, and his eyes intense as he looked at Legolas and Mary. "But I will say this: never, in all my years, have I seen two whose love is as strong as yours." He turned and faced the crowd. "In battle they met, and in battle they bonded as no other. They have faced the forces of darkness together, and together seen men and children die, and together faced the fear of death when it loomed over their own lives. Together they brought hope and strength to all, and together they have grieved, and sung songs, and laughed. And each has given their own life to save the other."

The room was silent, all listening, and there was not a heart there that was not moved.

Gimli turned to Legolas and Mary, and his eyes shone with admiration and love. "You are a light in the world, my friends." He said, and his gruff voice was gentle. "It brings me great joy to see you joined together at last. May the Valar bless your lives together, and Eru grant you peace and joy untold." Then he bowed at his waist, lowering his bearded head.

When he rose Mary smiled at him with tear-filled eyes, and Legolas looked upon him with warmth. "Let none say that dwarves cannot weave words of beauty or speak with eloquence." He said. "Thank you, mellon nin." And he stepped forward and embraced his friend.

Then, the giving of gifts at an end, all was cleared away except for one long table against the wall, and upon this many sweet and savory treats were laid, and spiced ciders and wine. While this was being done Gandalf approached them, and his grey eyes sparkled with merriment and joy, and he smiled upon them. "My dear friends!" he said, and hugged them both. When he pulled back there was the light of a conspirator in his eyes, and he leaned close. "I too have a gift for you," he said quietly to them. "But it is a gift that must come much later."

"Indeed?" Mary said. "And since you are extending our anticipation to an unknown and tiresome length of time, can you not give us a clue that will make the time more bearable?"

Legolas glanced at her, and a smile came to his lips even as he shook his head.

Gandalf laughed. "No, my dear girl." He said.

"It could not hurt to tell us." Mary insisted, her eyes twinkling. "For otherwise there is the terrible pain of waiting."

"And yet there is the pleasure of surprise!" Gandalf countered.

Mary's eyes widened, and then they narrowed with playful frustration. "I should've known my own words would come back to haunt me!" she said, even as Legolas laughed and Gandalf smiled.

Music began to play, and games brought out, and there was laughter and competition and fun. When at last the games grew tiresome there was dancing and singing, and then, as the shadows grew long and the firelight grew red, Mary pulled out her new violin. Its dark wood gleamed in the light, and there was silence, and she alone stood, there in the midst of them. She drew the white bow across the strings, and the melody it made was more beautiful than any music she had ever played. It spread out across them like golden waves, warming their hearts and filling their minds with flowers and wind, and it flowed quietly like a peaceful river, and then it danced among them like a spry faery that laughed and twirled and grabbed their hands pulled them into dance until they were so tired they could no longer stand. Then it pulled over them a blanket of peace and calm, and quieted their thoughts, and told them of starlit nights and the moon shining down through the trees.

* * *

"I am amazed." Legolas said, shaking his head as they walked outside along the snow-covered path under the stars. "Never before had I seen so much laid out for the morning meal." 

"For breakfast?" Mary smiled. "Did you never eat with the hobbits?"

"Yes," he said, looking down at her. "But those were a traveler's rations. This morning was enough to feed my father's entire kingdom."

Chuckling, Mary took his hand and held it tightly, then glanced back as the sound of animated chatter reached her ears, and she smiled to see the hobbits talking and bantering with Gimli and Aragorn and Arwen, making the dwarf frown with the effort to find some retort and causing Aragorn and Arwen to laugh.

When at last they reached the clearing, they found tables already laden with hot cider and other steaming drinks, and baked apples and thick stews and hot bread and sweet rolls. Also there was Gandalf, and behind him on the edge of the clearing a handcart covered with a blanket, under which there were many odd shapes and lumps. When Merry and Pippin scampered over to investigate, they suddenly found themselves caught by the back of their jackets and cloaks.

"Oh no you don't." Gandalf said above them. "You remember what happened the last time, I trust?"

Mary laughed as she watched the two hobbits get shooed away by the wizard, and as she turned back to the table, pulling her white fur cloak and hood more tightly about her, Legolas touched her arm, a plate of food in his other hand. "What did Gandalf mean?" he asked.

Mary pushed her hood down and glanced over her shoulder. Then she leaned in close, and picked up a plate. "Back in the Shire," she whispered, gathering food. "At Bilbo's party, Merry and Pippin stole a particularly large firework from Gandalf's cart…"

Gandalf looked up when Legolas's clear laugh rang through the clearing, and he smiled.

The fireworks were more magnificent that ever; it was true that Gandalf only improved with age. There were rockets that flew among them like a flock of white doves singing sweet songs. There were great trees with trunks of silver smoke, and their glowing branches reached out to cover them, and greens leaves burst forth like an entire Spring; and then they turned rich and golden, and white flowers fell around them, filling the air with a sweet scent. There was a brilliant golden thunderstorm with purple rain that fell down among them in a violet mist and filled the forest with its deafening booms, and there was a fountain of silver that rained down like a raging waterfall. There were butterflies that flew among them like brightly colored jewels, and some alighted on the outstretched fingers of the amazed onlookers, and Legolas chuckled as an entire group settled upon Mary's head and all down her arm and on her hand, causing her to laugh. There were fountains of red that spat out silver ships and fiery orange birds that rushed through the air with echoing cries. There were white and blazing arrows that shot out all at once with a piercing shriek of wind, flying straight down at the gathered company, but just before they hit the elves and guests they exploded into many-colored flowers and leaves. Then there was one that was for Legolas and Mary. A great black smoke rose, and from its point there spewed red fire, and there was a terrible thundering that filled the air. The flaming mountain dissolved into a fallen maiden and an elf, and a piercing white light filled them and burst forth to blind all who watched, and when again they could see there was now a glowing red mountain range, with sparkling green trees flowing down their sides, and brilliant blue birds flew between them and sang with clear voices. Then all disappeared in a puff and cloud of golden shower, and there were tears upon Mary's face, and Legolas was very quiet. Then there came a final rocket, and it burst into a sea of brilliant blue and green and silver, and into it dove the golden sun, only to rise again in a brilliant yellow explosion pulling up a green tree, and there was much laughter from those who watched. The light grew brighter and brighter, until it hurt their eyes, and then all exploded in a deafening and blinding burst of sound and color, washing over them with a great wind and roar.

The elves cheered, and so did the hobbits and the visiting men and Aragorn and his queen, and Gimli, and Mary and Legolas clapped their hands and laughed.

Later than night, as the firelight in their room flickered and cast them in a golden glow, Legolas raised himself onto one arm and looked down at Mary. Her eyes were closed, and a small smile played on her lips. Gently Legolas brushed her dark hair back from her forehead, and she turned her face towards him with a sigh, stretching. Legolas smiled, his fingers brushing over her shoulder and across her cheek. "Le-ú dim tó le onam cím amar nin?" he whispered, his brows pulling together slightly. _You (are) not sad that you gave up your world for me?_

Mary chuckled, and her dark eyes opened and looked up at him, shining with love and affection. "Im ceri-ú annohan am." she said, reaching up and pushing some golden hair behind a pointed ear. "Le nin amar." _I did not give it up. You (are) my world._

Legolas smiled, his blue eyes glowing, and leaning down he held her face in his hand, and as she reached up to hold his shoulder, he kissed her.

* * *

Thranduil had insisted on traveling with them to Ithilien, to see where they would make their new home and help if he could. It was now Spring, and the leaves on the trees had only just arrived to grace the branches with their new green. When they arrived, Legolas had temporary homes built to house the elves in his company and Mary and himself, and then he and Mary, with the input of Thranduil, drew plans upon a sheet of parchment for a permanent house. Each elf was to build for himself his own home, and as most preferred to live simply this all happened fairly quickly. For Legolas and Mary, their home was to be beautiful but simple, yet fitting for a prince and his Lady. It was to be made of pale-colored wood and white stone, with high vaulted ceilings and great arched windows and doors that would let in the sun and the air so that it felt as though one were still outside. Within a few weeks of their arrival in Ithilien, Gimli arrived with a company of dwarves: to help with the building of the elven homes. 

When the home was nearly finished, suddenly neither Legolas nor Gimli would allow Mary to visit. At first she protested, but both were so adamant that she stay away that she finally surrendered, and instead busied herself helping the other elves to cultivate the land, planting trees and flowers and arbors of grape vines. And she visited with Thranduil when he was not helping Legolas and Gimli. They talked much and laughed often, and very soon all of the elves that had journeyed with Legolas were settled in. All except for Legolas and Mary. Each night they retired to their tent, and Mary would ask if she could visit their home the next day, and Legolas would merely smile and shake his head.

Then, one morning, when Mary had been unable to see her home for a month, she and Thranduil were helping to clear some land for a field where grain might be grown. The elven king had his hair tied back, and wore but a pair of leggings, his boots, and a white undershirt whose sleeves he had rolled up. Mary wore a white cotton dress, her surcoat laying beneath a tree on the edge of the field. Her hair was tied back as well, though some of it had gone wild and managed to escape. Both she and Thranduil were dirty and covered in sweat, grunting as they attempted to remove a large rock from the ground as the sun beat down upon them.

A stick had been shoved under one side, and on this Mary leaned with all of her weight. "Come on– come on– come on–" she begged.

Thranduil gritted his teeth, pulling back on a rope tied around the rock, his feet digging into the ground. Suddenly the earth released the rock, and Thranduil gave a yell of surprise as he stumbled back, barely escaping as the large stone rolled towards him, and Mary yelped as the stick she leaned on gave way beneath her, and off balance she fell to her face and into the now empty hole.

Thranduil let go of the slack rope and began to laugh. Wiping off his hands he stepped up to the hole and crouched down, his grey eyes dancing with amusement as Mary coughed and spat, sitting up, completely covered from head to foot in red dirt. "That went well." The king said, reaching down to catch her hand. Mary shook her head and chuckled, coughing as she took his hand and was pulled up and out of the hole.

As dirt was being brushed from her in red clouds, Legolas arrived, and for a moment he stood and watched them with a bemused expression. "Nad glenna man, cen-im" he said. _Things (are) going well, I see._

Thranduil and Mary laughed. "Suilad, Legolas." Mary chuckled, picking up her skirt and shaking it out as she came to him. _Hello, Legolas._

"Mana tulle sí hi arinya mí aur, lond?" Thranduil asked, following Mary. _What brings you here this early in the day, son?_

"Mín gar-tele." Legolas answered, and his smile was satisfied and his gaze glowing as he looked at Mary. _We have finished._

Mary's eyes widened, and a hint of a hopeful smile pulled at her mouth. "Ceri-hi foeg– im turcen-ha hi?" _Does this mean– I can see it now?_

Legolas nodded, looking at her. "É." _Yes._

Happily, Mary, Legolas, and Thranduil walked back through the trees to the small hill where their home had been built. It rose tall and pale and beautiful from the green grass, some of the lower rooms having been built underground with their doors coming out of the side of the hill, and its arches and intricately carved wood and stone made it a thing of grace. Tall arched windows let the sun shine inside in pale golden beams, and the great dark wood doors were inlaid with gold and silver, and runes were carved into the stone frame above:

'Sídh A Aist nOrbo Le, Ah Lothron Le Hir Idh Ilya Ai Minn Sí.'

'Ram An E Gwai

A Tob-An E Rost

A Sút Ar-E Naur

Lalaith Na Ortan-Le

A Tuin Le Mel Nev Le

A Ilya Tó Cín Óre Anír Lothron!'

_Peace And Blessings Be Upon You, And May You Find Rest All Who Enter Here._

_Walls for the Wind_

_And a Roof for the Rain_

_And Drinks beside the Fire_

_Laughter to Cheer (Lift) you_

_And Those you Love near you_

_And All that your Heart may Desire!_

Mary smiled, looking up as they passed under the great doors. "Gimli eriol cer-e gond a lairesse e ennyn?" she said. _Gimli alone carved out the stone and inlaid the doors?_

Legolas nodded. "É" _Yes._

Thranduil nodded in approval. "Ho gardaer curu." _He has great skill. _

Through the halls and rooms Legolas led them, to the wing where the Legolas and Mary's bedchamber and changing and washing rooms were. The elves and dwarves who were still around, cleaning up the tools and materials and washing away the dirt and dust from construction, bowed or nodded as they passed. To the end of the hall Legolas led them, and into a peaked door and a small alcove, from which a series of broad, wide steps descended, circling down to a large room with a high ceiling and a door across the distance that led out from the hillside. Before a wall there was a very large stone recess in the floor, the stones carefully cut and placed like a mosaic. Above it, set eight feet high up the wall, was a great carved bird's head, much like an eagle's– only larger– with a crest of feathers. It's beak was open, and from it gushed and poured a great fall of water, landing and splashing into the stone recess and draining away through a drain at its deepest point.

Gimli stood beside the pool, and his face was fairly glowing with pride, his dark eyes snapping with excitement. "Welcome, my lady!" he rumbled, bowing.

"Gimli!" Mary came to stand beside him, looking with wonder at the falling water and stone pool. "What is this?"

"Ah!" the dwarf rubbed his hands together, looking pleased as he gazed upon his creation. "This is a thing that is completely unique; there is no other like it in all of Middle Earth!" He spread his hand. "This… is where you might bathe, my lady. No longer must a great tub be filled, or you journey down to the River. See here;" he went to the wall, just to the side of the falling, crystalline water. "We dwarves dug down deep, and found a spring of water fed by the river Anduin itself, so that it never runs dry; and there, in the bowels of the earth, it churns and boils and so becomes heated. We built great pipes to draw it up, and here it pours out, and there–" he pointed to the deepest point of the pool, where the water poured down a hole several inches wide. "There it drains back into the spring, and so the water is always replenished and never wasted. And here." He lifted a great carven rock in the shape of a cork, hung on a great chain, from a hook on the wall. "If you wish to soak, you may plug the drain, and so allow the water to rise."

Mary's eyes had grown wide, and there was amazement and excitement and pleasure in them as she stared at the bath, and stepping to the wall she reached out and let the water run over her hand, and it was indeed warm– though not hot. "Gimli!" she exclaimed. "I know not what to say!"

Gimli tried to appear unaffected, but the pleasure in her delight shone in his eyes. "It was Legolas's idea, and my construction– with input from Legolas on the appearance of it all, of course." He said.

Thranduil stared at the cascading water and the pool in amazement. "Ah Gimli," he said. "I shall have to have you and your kin to the Greenwood, if this be a true testimony of your talent and skill!"

"I thank you, Thranduil, Elven King." Gimli said, bowing.

Then Mary turned, and her shining eyes fell on Legolas, and running to him she put her arms around his neck and embraced him tightly. And laying a kiss upon him she said, "Thank you, Legolas! Thank you so much! It is wonderful!"

Legolas returned her embrace, turning his face into her hair to breathe in her scent, and his eyes closed. "You are most welcome, meld er." He whispered into her ear.

Thranduil and Gimli shared a smile, and then the dwarf cleared his throat. "It would seem, My Lord Thranduil, by our lady's appearance, that we finished the bath just in time!"

Thranduil laughed, and Mary turned to glance at the dwarf, and then looking down at her dress stained with red dirt, and feeling her smeared face, she laughed as well. "I would be most honored to test the bath, Master Gimli."

* * *


	5. E Tálo Ilya Nad: The End of All Things

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter Five

"_E T__álo__ Ilya Nad" (The End of All Things)_

* * *

Mary held her back as she finally made it to her feet, and she looked out along the grass as her three children ran laughing across it in a game of tag. A little girl, barely four years old, chased after her older twin brothers with a permanent smile on her face, giggling as they twisted and danced away from her, her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders. The two boys laughed and teased her, both running in opposite directions in a wide circle so that she didn't know where to go. One of them wore on his golden brown hair a crown of twisted vines and leaves, which he had made, while his brother had made for himself a belt of vines and had in it a stick for a sword. Mary chuckled as she watched them, rubbing her large belly absently with one hand. 

"Alright." She finally called. "Laiqualassien, Galasrinion, time to go in. Laerwen, come with your brothers."

"But Nana!" Both boys moaned, turning their large blue eyes on her.

"It's time for supper. Come on."

Laiqualassien blew out a disappointed breath, then turned and walked towards his little sister. "Come on, Laerwen." He said, grunting as he picked her up, his arms wrapped around her waist. "Let's go."

Galasrinion heaved a sigh with slumped shoulders, and hanging his arms and his head he began to walk, dragging his feet, back to the blanket where Mary had been sitting.

"Ada?"

"Yes, Laerwen." Laiqualassien said, his face turning red as he carried her, trying not to drop his sister as she swung her feet. His leafy crown tipped sideways. "Ada will be there."

Galasrinion finally reached the blanket, and he looked up with woeful eyes, which were more grey than his brother's. "Nana, do we have to go in?"

"Yes." Mary said, holding her belly. "Could you carry the blanket, please?"

He sighed. "Yes, Nana." He said, and bent down and grabbed the edges and pulled it all into an untidy bundle and held it against him, his little arms wrapped tightly around it and his eyes peering over the top.

"Nana! Laerwen keeps kicking me!"

"She's just swinging her feet, Laiqualassien." Mary said, holding out her hand. "Here, set her down. Hold my hand, Laerwen." The little girl looked up at her with dark eyes that squinted as she grinned, and Mary smiled back. "Ready to eat?"

Laerwen nodded. "Uh huh."

"Alright. Up we go."

It seemed that every day the slope up to the white stone house got longer and harder, but then Mary thought, it was probably just because she kept getting bigger and slower. By the time they reached the wide arched doorway she was out of breath, and paused for a moment, hand on her belly. Her children waited patiently, the boys skipping back and forth in front of her.

"Nana," Laiqualassien finally said. "Are we going?"

"Yes, Laiqualassien." Mary said, her voice still breathless. "Just let me finish catching my breath."

Suddenly Laerwen gave a shriek and took off, tearing her hand from Mary's, and she ran on her little legs through the door and across the sunlit porch with its high vaulted ceiling. "Ada! Ada! Ada!"

Legolas stopped walking and crouched down with open arms, catching the little girl as she collided into him in a pile of giggles. "Hello, little one." He said, hugging her. Standing he held her in his arms, and looked up to catch Mary's eye. "Manen le, meld er?" he asked, walking towards her as Laerwen played with the tip of his ear, her face suddenly very focused. _How (are) you, dear one?_ Reaching his wife's side Legolas gently kissed her lips, ignoring the groans and laughter of his children as he did so.

Mary laughed as she kissed him back. "Man. Tithen edo thúl." _Good. Little out of breath_.

Legolas smiled at her, and moving Laerwen to his one side he held out his arm for Mary to hold on to. "Anglenno-nin adar. A Gimli." he said as they walked. _My father arrived. And Gimli._

Mary shook her head in amusement. "Le osánha nhon erui indyo!" _You (would) think it be his first grandchild!_

Legolas laughed. "Ho turútu ha." he said. "Ho nauth hoú ui gar-indyo." _He cannot help it. He thought he (would) not ever have grandchildren. _

Dark eyes turned to him, wide with excitement. "Daerada nasí?" _Grandfather is here?_

Legolas nodded. "É, Laerwen." _Yes, Laerwen._

As they entered the sunlit hall there was a hearty roar of greeting, and then both boys were running across the floor with cries of "Daerada!" and "Gimli!" A moment later Laerwen was following, adding to the noise with excited shrieks of her own. Thranduil caught her and swung her above his head, his grey eyes dancing with merriment as she giggled. Gimli, meanwhile, had enveloped the two boys in a bear hug, their heads disappearing into his great brown beard. When finally he let them go they gasped for air dramatically, then ran to hug their grandfather. Laerwen, set down by now, stepped forward timidly, on finger in her mouth. She had always been a little shy around Gimli. The dwarf bent down on one knee, and smiled kindly at her.

"Look," he said, reaching into his pouch. As he withdrew his hand and held it up for her to see, something glittered. "Look what the dwarves have made for you, little one. A comb wrought of metal and set with jewels mined from their very own mountain, made to look like a flower of Ithilien!"

Laerwen's dark eyes grew wide with wonder, and a small smile curled and spread across her face. Eyes shining she took her finger from her mouth and reached out, grasping the comb. For a moment she held it in both hands, staring at it and how the gems sent the light sparkling and dancing. Looking up at him she grinned, and then throwing her arms wide she fell against him in a hug, burying her face in his beard. "Thank you!" she sing-songed.

Gimli chuckled, pleased, and returned the hug. "You are most welcome, little one."

"Legolas! Mary!" Thranduil greeted his son and daughter with a smile, setting down his grandsons and standing. Stepping forward he embraced Legolas. "It is good to see you!" Then he turned to Mary, and gently took her hands. "And you. How are you feeling?"

"I feel well, my lord." Mary said, smiling.

"And the little one?"

She laughed, setting one hand to her belly as it jumped from an inner kick. "Well and strong!"

"That is good to hear!" Thranduil smiled, and then he turned to his son. "Legolas; how is your work in Ithilien and Minas Tirith?"

"It is going well." Legolas said. "The dwarves have rebuilt the first and second level of the city, and we have helped to repair many other buildings and homes as well. But mostly the elves have worked in Osgiliath."

Thranduil nodded. "And the settlement here in Ithilian?"

"Our crops are doing well, as are the orchards." Legolas smiled, remembering the gift made to him on his wedding day that made the orchards possible. "In fact, tonight we shall enjoy the first of the season's cherries."

Gimli answered, his tone most appreciative. "That I look forward to, indeed. It has been a while since I have had anything other than apples!" Then: "Alright then, who is ready to do battle, my two young princelings? Indeed! I called your father a princeling, and still do, so it stands that I may call you the same. So draw out your wooden swords, lads, and hold up your shields. Now where did I put my ax?"

* * *

Mary sighed, looking out across the deepening landscape, the red flowers of the trees becoming purple in the twilight as the sky became as a dark blue pool, and the first of the stars opened their eyes to blink and look down upon the world. The breeze blew gently, caressing her skin and cooling the sweat and grime still upon it. She and Legolas had spent the day teaching their children– those who were old enough– the skills of the sword. Though they hoped there would never be cause to use such skills, they knew it would be folly to assume that it could never happen. Most of the last few weeks had been spent preparing and planting the gardens and fields, and today the large family finally had the chance to remain at home. The training had gone well, with the laughter of those enjoying one another's company and the seriousness of ones who understood that what they did was important and not to be taken lightly. 

Galasrinion, Laiqualassien, and Laerwen helped to teach their younger brothers and sisters. There was Urúvion, his dark eyes snapping and fiery behind his golden hair, and then Maethoriel, facing her father with wooden sword held high, her fiery hair tied back in a long braid. Ithilwen and Dûrion practiced against their oldest brothers. Both were fair skinned and dark haired, with eyes of the purest blue. Ithilwen was not as serious as her brother, but she was as quiet and reserved. Thranduil often reflected that she and Dûrion looked much like his late queen and Legolas's mother, Laegeryn, though in character they seemed to take after their father and himself.

Laerwen waited upon the edge, her dark hair tied back and long below her shoulders. She watched her mother and Urúvion. He had learned well, though his impatience still sometimes got the better of him. As it did now. Growing tired of the long fight in which neither seemed to gain the higher ground he spun and raised his sword high only to have a wooden blade strike his ribs with its edge, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Patience, Urúvion." Mary said, standing still and strong with her blade still against her son. "Never open yourself to your opponent like that. If this were a true battle that strike would have cleaved you in two."

Urúvion clenched his teeth, but he nodded, knowing she was right. As they stood, then, straight and with their swords lowered, he stuck the point of his wooden blade into the dirt, and though his face was composed his dark eyes burned with frustration at himself.

Mary noticed this, and smiled. "Do not be upset." She said, and in a moment of a mother's love she reached out and brushed a strand of his golden hair from his face, noticing how it gleamed in the sunlight. "Your skill has grown since the last time we fought. If it grows as much before we fight again I will be at your mercy."

Urúvion's eyes relaxed. "Thank you, Naneth." He said, smiling.

There was a cry to one side, and Dûrion shook his hand, then he turned and began to strike at the ground around Galasrinion's feet, yelling at him in elvish as his brother retreated, dancing to avoid the sword stabbing at his feet, and though it appeared to be a clash of tempers between brothers there was laughter and teasing in their voices and expressions. Ithilwen shook her head, the barest of a smile touching her lips while Laiqualassien looked on and laughed.

Maethoriel used the momentary distraction to start a sudden and vicious attack, and Legolas had to move quickly to avoid being overcome. Slowly she drove him back, and her blue eyes snapped with triumph. Then suddenly her father struck back, and as she moved to avoid the strike he knocked the sword from her hand and held the tip of his blade just under her chin. Both stood frozen for a moment, breathing heavily.

"You have learned well, Maethoriel." Legolas said, his chest rising as he breathed. He tipped his head. "Has Naneth been teaching you?"

A corner of her mouth twitched upward, the adolescent elven-maid straightening with pride. "Yes. And then Urúvion and I practice for an hour. Every day."

"Indeed?" Legolas smiled and dropped his sword. Reaching out with his other hand he took the back of her head and pulled her close, kissing the top of her fiery hair. "Well done."

As Maethoriel turned and went to fight with Urúvion, Legolas glanced to one side to see Mary eyeing him, a teasing light in her eye, challenging. With a small smile Legolas turned, and as they faced one another and began to circle there was the hushed voices of some of their children. As if they read each other's mind Legolas and Mary suddenly moved at the same time, coming together with a resounding crash of swords. Once they attacked there was no slowing down, just a flurry of movement. They spun and turned and advanced and retreated, striking and blocking, and it seemed almost like a dance rather than a fight as they moved together. They began to pick up momentum, until one could not tell who was attacking whom, or where one started and one began, and then with a final, resounding clash it stopped. Mary and Legolas stood face to face, their swords and arms crossed and locked together between them, breathing hard and heavy. Mary stared up at him, still with challenge, and with warmth and fire, noting how even with the single bead of sweat trickling down his temple from his hairline there was hardly a strand of hair out of place. She could feel the dampness of her shirt, could feel the wet perspiration on her face and the loose strands of dark hair plastered to the sides of her face and on her neck.

"Le eriol thír-sie útaith ap-auth." she said so that only he could hear. _You alone (could) look so perfect after battle._

A smile flashed across his face, and his eyes burned as he looked at her. "Im lothron ped-sui limb an le, melnin." he said. _I may say as much for you, my love._ Then his lips caught hers. Mary closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth that filled her, and the taste of sweet spice and saltiness.

The barely audible laughter and whispers around them made them smile against each other, and then they pulled back to look once more into each other's eyes before turning to face the wide-eyed innocent looks of their children before at them. "We are done for today, my children." Legolas said. "Let us return to the house for supper."

Now Mary stood on the balcony of her and Legolas's room, watching the stars awaken one by one. Closing her eyes she stilled her mind, and quieted her thoughts, and slowly she began to hear– however faintly– the water of the Anduin splashing and running with crystalline music, and every once in a while the haunting and lonely call of a gull flying late and alone over the waters. That old and familiar stirring rose within her, drawing her towards the Sea, and her feet ached to move and to follow. The sound and the music and the yearning filled her until all she could hear was the water and the gull, beckoning and calling until nothing else mattered.

Then she opened her eyes, and all was silent, and there was only the breeze stirring through the purple flowers of the trees, and the stars blinking down at her with their soft jeweled eyes.

Turning she went in, and left her room, and walked barefoot down the halls to the rooms of her younger children, the ones who had watched as their elder siblings had sparred that day.

Faeron looked up from where he sat with his two younger sisters, crouched over a book of stories, the pages filled with detailed and rich pictures of bright colors. His brown hair was soft, and his blue eyes bright as he saw her. "Nana!"

Mary smiled. "Hello, Faeron." She said, bending down to pick up Anameleth, her youngest, as the little one raised short arms to her, head of black curls shining in the candlelight.

Eccaia stood up and followed Mary to a small bed, where her mother sat down and set her baby sister on her lap. "Nana," she asked, climbing onto the mattress in her white nightgown. She pushed her brown hair out of her face. "Do we have to go to bed?"

"Yes, Eccaia."

"But Faeron and me have started our own book, just like yours!" The little girl pointed as her older brother stood up and grabbed a pile of papers next to the book they'd been looking at, and carefully stepping over the stubs of colored chalk and sticks of charcoal, he proudly brought forward their masterpiece. Shifting Anameleth to one leg and arm Mary took one of the pieces of paper and looked at it, smiling as she saw the bright red dragon and the brave elf prince battling upon its surface.

"That is Locien," Faeron said, pointing upside down at the dragon. "And he is the brave king, Veryan."

"Locien was taking all of Veryan's gold, and he was eating all of the animals in the kingdom, so no one had anything to eat anymore!" Eccaia said, her eyes wide and excited. "_And_ Locien fell in love with Melda, but Veryan wanted to marry her, but then Locien kidnapped her!"

"So Veryan takes his sword and goes to fight the dragon. See?"

"I do." Mary smiled as she looked at the many pages already drawn on, the story half-written in big and careful letters. No wonder they had been so quiet that day!

"We are becoming good storytellers, just like you, Nana!" Faeron said, standing tall, his eyes shining.

"Yes you are!" Mary handed him the papers. "Who don't you put these somewhere safe until tomorrow, and I will tell you a story before bed."

While her son scampered off to do just that Mary took Anameleth, and changed and cleaned her, and dressed her for sleep. As she did so she heard a low murmuring, and frowning slightly in concentration she listened closely. It was the voice of Legolas. He must have arrived while she was caring for Anameleth, and already he was telling a story to his young children, who were, no doubt, sitting enraptured and wide-eyed before him. Sure enough, when Mary finally returned, she found Legolas sitting with his children upon the floor, cross-legged, his hands moving in the air before him to illustrate the story he told. It was an old favorite, about an elven kingdom that was invaded by a band of dwarves, and how the elven king imprisoned them. Only they escaped, and fled the forest, and a dragon awoke, and the elven king discovered the dwarves' true purpose– to overthrow the dragon and reclaim their home. There was a terrible battle, and the dwarven king was killed; but the dragon was overcome, and all that the dragon had stolen was returned. Smiling, Mary sat down in a chair beside the three small beds, and covering herself and Anameleth with a small blanket for privacy, she settled herself back and to feed the baby girl, listening as Legolas continued with the story.

It was late before all of their children were finally abed. Legolas and Mary closed the last door, and sighed, the silence of the night broken only by the quiet chirping of crickets and the faint singing of night birds. "It gets later and later every year." Legolas whispered.

Mary smiled, slipping an arm around his waist. "At least we don't have to tuck the older ones in anymore."

Laughing quietly, Legolas pulled her close and hugged her gently, and they stood there for a moment, relaxing in the silence and the warmth of their embrace, and then they parted. As they walked through the halls they held hands, and talked quietly, and upon reaching the door to their room they were surprised to find Laerwen waiting for them.

As they approached she stepped forward, holding her fair hands and wringing them. There was a brightness in her eyes and a blush upon her cheek. "Adar, Naneth."

"Yes, Laerwen; what is it?" Mary asked.

Their oldest daughter looked at them with large, dark eyes, and she took a deep breath. "You remember when King Elessar and Arwen visited with their son, Eldarion, earlier this spring?"

Legolas nodded; Mary waited.

"Well," Laerwen licked her lips, glancing between them. "We spent time together, and– we have always had the love of friendship between us." She paused a moment, and there was silence. Mary waited patiently, and she knew without looking that Legolas was also waiting, his expression neutral– yet there would be a slight smile in his eyes. Finally Laerwen spoke. "He has asked for my hand!"

Joy and excitement rose up within Mary and spilled from her eyes and smile, yet at the same time she felt her heart clench within her, and tears pricked behind her lashes, hot as she blinked them back. Still she opened her arms and enfolded Laerwen in her embrace, and she clung to her daughter, feeling such pain as only a mother can when joy and grief threaten to tear her in two. Laerwen returned the hug, with as much strength and desperation. When they at last pulled apart there were tears in her eyes and sparkling upon her cheeks.

"I do not know what to say!" she said, looking back and forth between her parents. "I love him dearly, yet I dread to be separated from you when at last you cross the sea!" She stared at them in desperation. "What shall I do?"

Mary glanced at Legolas, and in his eyes as he looked at her she saw the same sense of being torn in two that she felt. The blue of his eyes was almost glowing in the dark, and there was a wordless question in his gaze. Mary thought for a moment, and realized that though an ache had filled her it was mostly from joy at the thought of her daughter and Aragorn's son in love and wed. A smile touched her lips, and she nodded. They looked again at their daughter, and Legolas, his gaze brimming with warmth and joy, smiled at her. "Laerwen," he said, reaching out a hand to hold her shoulder. "If you love him, that is enough. Wed him and be at peace."

Then Laerwen's dark eyes lit like the sun, and she laughed and threw her arms around him, and then she hugged Mary. "Oh Adar and Naneth! Thank you!"

* * *

It was the time of the Harvest. All the food had been gathered and stored, and the leaves had turned into brilliant bursts of gold and flame and red, and the air was crisp with the scent of apples and frost, and the sunlight had become paler and more clear in light of the coming Winter. All was dressed in wreaths of Autumn leaves and garlands and bundles of late Fall flowers, brilliant in color against the white stone of the city. Gathered from all over were dwarves and elves and men, and Minas Tirith was full of laughter and music and song. 

Mary, dressed in the yellow dress of velvet she had worn so long ago, with the silver and gold-leafed circlet upon her head, was in the room with all of her daughters gathered about. There was much singing and talking and laughing, and some teasing, and then finally Mary sent them out. Eccaia skipped ahead of her older sisters, and Maethoriel carried little Anameleth, trailing behind Ithilwen. When at last the door was closed and quiet had settled within the room, Mary turned and smiled. Laerwen sat before her in a dress of the purest white, so bright it almost hurt to look upon her, and pearls were strewn about the neckline and the sleeves and her waist, so that she glowed with the light of the moon. Within her hair the moon was also woven, and it hung about her neck and upon her ears. Mary went to a chest and pulled from it shoes to match, and a mantle of white fur. Lifting her daughter's dark hair she draped the mantle about her shoulders, and secured it with a mithril broach in the likeness of a butterfly with outstretched wings.

Laerwen took a trembling breath. "Naneth, nle úthál n-an hervle Adar?" Laerwen asked as Mary lifted a butterfly crown with strands of pearls and sunlit jewels from its place on a small table. _Mother, be you nervous before you wed Father?_

A burst of laughter escaped Mary, and as she set the crown to her daughter's dark hair she shook her head, a look of fond remembrance upon her face. "Im nor-au." _I ran away._

Laerwen turned around, her upturned face a mixture of shock and delight. "Baw!" _No!_

Mary nodded. "Yes." she said, smiling, and she sat down beside Laerwen and took the fair hands in her own, looking into Laerwen's dark eyes. "I was afraid our union would be frowned upon. At that time I was a stranger in this land, with not a thing to my name, not even the clothes I wore!"

Laerwen listened with rapt attention, smiling as she heard the familiar story, and listening again lest she miss a single detail.

"I believed I was nothing but a commoner in the eyes of Legolas and his people. So I left, intent on following the Anduin, to seek my fate and fortune. Your father followed me, but of course he said all the wrong things and we fought." Mary's eyes shone as she remembered. "Still, eventually he found his rare gift for speech again, and using the skill and grace of his words he convinced me to stay." Laerwen dropped her gaze then, but quickly raised it when her mother leaned forward, her voice hushed. "I have faced creatures of evil and battles of untold darkness, but never has my heard pounded so hard as it did the day we wed. It is a nervous and excited rush, a facing of a new and unknown future, a fire that burns through your veins and catches your breath– so much so that it is almost pain, and yet you pray that it never ends."

Laerwen took a steadying breath, and nodded. "So it is with me." She whispered.

Then Mary drew forth a necklace, and on it hung a brilliant yellow jewel surrounded by silver, and it formed the heart of a blooming summer flower. "For you, as your own." Mary said, her own Dawn and Twilight necklace hanging and burning bright upon her breast. Laerwen's eyes widened, and she could find no words as Mary set the Flower of Summer around her neck, where it shone bright and golden.

The ceremony was held in the courtyard beneath the White Tree, and Legolas and Mary stood there with Aragorn and Arwen. Eldarion gazed upon Laerwen with such love that his blue eyes seemed to shine with the light of the sun itself, and Mary smiled, seeing how he had grown into a strong and able young man, wise and gentle and true. And as Laerwen gazed upon him with love and joy, Mary felt tears rise in her eyes and spill to her cheeks. "Valar nas nin." She whispered, holding tightly within her hand the broach with the sapphire jewel which she was to give to Eldarion, as was the custom. _Valar be with me._

For many days there was feasting and celebration. Gimli and the dwarves with him had brought many fine gifts made within their mountain, and Thranduil, beaming with pride, bestowed more than his share upon his granddaughter and Aragorn's son. What Mary and Legolas gave to Laerwen and Eldarion no one knew, for it was done in private, and there was laughter and tears.

As the dancing and singing continued, Mary and Legolas took a moment to slip away quietly together, and they walked to the edge of the courtyard to the wall, where they looked down upon the city and across to the Anduin, a silver and sparkling ribbon heading towards the sea in the moonlight. She leaned against the wall.

"Veduí, Héri Mary." _Greetings, Lady Mary._

"Veduí, Haryon Legolas." _Greetings, Prince Legolas._

"A manen ceri-le bein hi dú?" _And how do you fair this night?_

"Man. A le?" _Good. And you?_

"Man." He answered, leaning his hands against the wall. He breathed deeply of the chill night air. "Lá morning man." _Good. More than good. _

Mary grinned and ducked her head. Legolas smiled, his blue eyes sparkling even as he kept his gaze firmly forward. "Has it really been eighty years since our own wedding?"

Mary looked up, her face composed to some extent, laughter still in her eyes. "It is hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Valar nas mín; they are only sixty."

Mary looked at him with a roll of her eyes. "I was only twenty-two, Lord nelhost tád meneg!"

Legolas raised his chin. "It is fruitless to try and make an elf feel old." He said, and Mary laughed at him. Then his eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth curved. "Besides, you were– mature, for your age."

Mary shook her head. "Mana ceri-im ceri-as le?" _What do I do with you?_

Aragorn approached them. His hair was quickly turning silver, trying to catch up with his beard, and his face was older and more weathered than it had been, lines creasing the skin around his eyes and mouth. But his eyes were still bright, and they glowed as he smiled upon them. "My friends." He said, and embraced Legolas, and then Mary. "This is a blessed time."

Legolas smiled, clasping the aging king's strong shoulder. "Eldarion has grown into a fine man." He said. "He takes after his father."

"Ah!" Aragorn waved his hand. "He takes after his _mother_, Legolas. Thank the Valar." He smiled. "And Laerwen takes after _her_ mother! There is a God…" he laughed, his voice trailing off. "She has grown into a wondrous lady."

Legolas chuckled, and Mary laughed. "You have grown less grave in your old age, my friend." Legolas said.

"Indeed." Aragorn said, and his grey eyes twinkled. "There is little reason to be grave anymore these long years." He glanced behind. "I see that Anameleth had grown much this past year." He turned his eyes to Legolas, a look of serious expectation on his face. "Shall we be expecting any news in the coming days? If my calculations have not been lost to me, I believe it is about that time again?"

Mary laughed, even more so when she saw a touch of pink enter her husband's face. "You must admit that no elf in the history of Middle Earth has ever had so many children before." She pointed out.

Aragorn laughed, and clasped Legolas's shoulder even as the tall elf shook his head and said something about being surrounded by children even now.

When the king left them to return to the celebration, Mary turned to Legolas and looked up at him with shining eyes as luminous as the moon. "You know, there is some truth in what he said, Legolas." She said, taking his hands in hers.

"Indeed?" Legolas smiled down at her. "About what in particular?"

Rising to her toes, Mary brushed her cheek against his, and her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered. A moment later Legolas straightened, staring at her. Then he smiled, and it was like the sun breaking over the horizon at dawn, and taking her face in his hands he kissed her.

"We shall have to start thinking of names." He whispered.

* * *

It was a cold day. The sun was pale and thin as it shone down weakly upon the world, and the wind blew without life or care, filled with a chill that bit through to the very bone. The gathering was dark and silent, eyes cast down. Legolas stood as still as a statue, and appeared to have been carved from marble as he stared ahead to the long bed of stone, draped with a black cloth. Upon it laid an old man stately and regal, his hands laid upon his chest, his brow smooth and wise, his face gentle and relaxed as though in sleep. He was a noble man, a king of men, and upon his breast he wore a green jewel. Before the bed stood Arwen, clad all in black, with a veil over her face. She was still as fair and unchanged as the day she had wed, yet there was no light now in her eyes, and no merriment or laughter upon her lips, and she stood silent and grave as a statue that keeps its cold vigil over a tomb. 

There also was Gimli, old and wrinkled now, with his hair more white than brown, and his youthful, snapping eyes were unblinking as they stared before him. At his side stood Eldarion and Laerwen, and with them their son and daughter.

At Legolas's other side, surrounded by their fourteen children, was Mary. She stood straight and unmoving, tears spilling from her eyes like crystal rivers down her cheeks. Her face was smooth and fair still, her body strong, with only small lines of laughter at the corner of her eyes to reveal her age. Except that her hair, blowing long and pure in the wind, had gone completely white. Her heart broke within her at the lifelessness in the elven queen's eyes, and she wished that there were some small thing she could do to offer comfort.

Legolas was quiet that night. He sat before the fire in their room with his legs stretched before him, staring into the flames, and the light and laughter of his face was no longer there. All that was left was a marble mask of nothing. Mary approached him, dressed in nothing but her thin white nightdress, her feet bare upon the floor. Her pure white hair hung down her back and spread over her bare shoulders, gleaming in the firelight. Settling to the floor before him she looked up, her dark eyes searching and resigned. "You wish to leave these shores." She said, and her quiet voice seemed loud in the silence.

Legolas did not move. "Because of Aragorn I stayed behind when even my father left for the Sea. Now that he has gone, the longing in my heart is almost unbearable."

Mary nodded. "Then build your ship, Legolas."

He sighed, and then moved for the first time, turning to glance in the direction of the neighboring room in which Gimli slept. "I would, but for the fear that if I leave now, it would be to abandon Gimli to die alone, with no friend by his side."

She rose to her knees, and took his hands in hers, and her eyes were dark and unblinking. "Take him with you." She said, and her voice was earnest, her gaze open.

Legolas looked at her, and saw in her eyes the offered hope and the assurance, the plea that he trust her once more, and somehow, though he had not thought it possible, he felt his heart lighten and the grief within him ease a little, and the ember in his chest sparked and then grew a little warm, fighting back the cold that had surrounded him. A smile touched his lips, and he reached out with one hand and held her face, tangling his fingers in her smooth hair. "Le nin ambir." He whispered. _You (are) my hope._

She smiled, tipping her cheek into his hand, and when she opened her eyes they were glowing with warmth and love. "Le nin cuil." _You (are) my life._

Leaning forward he caught her face in his hands, and pressing his lips to hers he kissed her. He had meant it to be gentle, but the moment her lips touched his the ember in his chest flared up with burning, rolling heat, and the kiss became desperate and intense, filled with a hunger and a fire that could not be quenched. He felt her warmth match his, and her fingers reached up to tangle themselves in his golden hair, and Legolas groaned, pulling her to him. As he stopped the kiss long enough to press his lips to her face and her brow, she whispered to him in elvish, and her words filled him with warmth and healed his heart. "Im mel-le." He whispered. "As nin cuil." _I love you. With my life._

* * *

The next months were spent building a boat. Legolas worked on it with his sons: Galasrinion, Laiqualassien, Urúvion, Dûrion, Faeron, Nestarion, and Feredir. Maethoriel, Ithilwen, Eccaia, Anameleth, Faelwen, and Saerwen– though these last two were still very, very young– helped Mary prepare for the journey by gathering food and water, and packing warm clothes, blankets, bedding, lanterns, and then all things precious to them. They had not been working long before Gimli stomped down from the great house, through the forests, and to the shore, carrying his many tools and ax, his hair tied back in a great white braid and his sleeves rolled up. "I am not yet so old," he declared. "That I cannot help to build a ship. Step aside, now, young princelings– yes, even you, Legolas– and let a master go to work." 

Indeed, he was still as strong as an ox, and his mind was as sharp as ever. With his company there was soon affectionate bickering and humorous if heated debates, and Legolas smiled. "Thank you." He said, working beside the dwarf as they shaped a long plank of wood.

Gimli glanced at him with bright, dark eyes full of laughter, and he nodded.

As the day drew near to their departure, Mary wandered the empty halls and rooms of her home, gazing around her as the memories filled her mind and her waking eyes. She heard the laughter of little children, and the roars of Gimli, and the voices of Thranduil and Legolas talking together, and she saw herself in the early morning light, running, laughing, holding in her hand Legolas's shirt, knowing she could not run fast enough to escape him and trying to anyway. Gradually she found herself descending a flight of stairs, and at the bottom it opened up into her washroom, with the birdhead fountain high in the wall still with water pouring pure and clear from it like a waterfall, and the pool, inlaid carefully with specially cut stone. As she ran her hand along the wall, memorizing every detail, she leaned out, extending her hand, and allowed the warm water to cascade over her hand and through her fingers, and tears filled her eyes.

"Do not weep, fair Mary." A rough voice said from the stairs. "I shall build you another one; one even grander than this."

She looked up, and smiled through her tears at the aged dwarf. "I know." She said. "But I shall miss this one."

He nodded, and gazed at her softly. "The ship is ready." He said quietly. "All is aboard. We can leave tomorrow."

Mary looked away, and nodded.

"Laerwen is here."

Her eyes snapped to his, and then she ran to the stairs and up and past him, taking the steps two at a time. Through the halls she sped, until she reached the great hall with its long table and high window. Laerwen was there, with Eldarion and their two children. She turned as Mary burst through the door, and she ran to her, tears upon her face as they embraced.

"Oh, Naneth." she whispered, clutching her mother tightly as though afraid she would disappear if let loose. "This is the day I have dreaded for many a year!"

Mary shut her eyes, begging the Valar for strength as tears rose up, hot and heavy in her eyes. "Laerwen." She said. "We shall be parted only for a little while. It won't be forever."

Her daughter's arms tightened around her. "But it will feel as such!" Laerwen whispered, and her voice was broken.

The final meeting between Laerwen and Legolas and Mary was hard and bitter, and there were many tears and embraces and words of affection and endearment. The night was spent, then, as a family, with all gathered together, sometimes dozing where they sat, but mostly talking together and basking in the company of one and all.

The morning dawned grey and cold, with a high wind, and gulls wheeled overhead by the dozens, calling out with their strange, haunting cries. As the ship left the shore Laerwen stood, with her dark hair blowing about her face and her cloak about her legs. Eldarion stood behind, and encircled her with his arms. Mary and Legolas stood and gazed after as they drew further and further away until their daughter had become a speck on the shoreline, and then the shore had swallowed her up.

At first there was grief, for the pain of parting with their loved one and leaving their home was great, but soon it was replaced with a quiet joy, subtle at first, and then stronger the further they journeyed. The longing was awakened full force within them, and it sang with relief and joy as they finally answered its call. About them the Sea was a liquid silver, and the waves sent up droplets of crystal that sparkled and glittered in the pale grey light.

It had been two weeks. Mary awoke to a change in the wind. For so long now it had been sharp and cold to match the lifeless grey of sea and sky, but now there was a hint of warmth to it, and the salty smell of ocean and fish and seaweed. Pushing back the blankets she rose to her feet, and padded barefoot out onto the deck, clad only in her thin white nightdress, her arms bare and her white hair falling and shining down her back in a long braid. As she stepped out onto the deck warm, golden sunlight fell upon her, filling her with its light and heat. Closing her eyes Mary spread her arms and lifted her hands, soaking in the life-giving rays and basking in its brilliance. Then she looked around, and the sea around them was blue, the waves tipped with white sparkling foam.

"Legolas!" She called, though she was careful to keep her voice down. "Ettule-sí! Glín!" _Come here! Look (quickly)!_

A moment later he appeared at her side, blinking away the remains of sleep as he rubbed at his eye, and then he looked around in amazement, pushing golden hair from his face. "Valar!" he exclaimed quietly. "E anor!" _Valar! The sun!_

Over the next few weeks the sun shone continually during the day, while at night a gentle rain would fall. The further west they traveled, the brighter and more beautiful the sun became, and the water grew bluer and bluer and bluer until it was more rich and deep and brilliant than any blue they had ever seen, and then it grew bluer still, and mottled emerald would rise from its depths to dapple the surface. The air became fresh, and the salt became mixed with a hint of sweetness, and it refreshed them much as the fragrance of the athelas plant. Gimli would remain on the deck for the entirety of the day, basking in the rich and powerful and warm sunlight, and he would smoke his pipe and be silent for hours. Also he would spar with the many young elven lads on board, and often he would spar with Legolas, and wrestle with him, or he would play a game of chess or play at riddles, or else he would sit before an enraptured audience and tell stories and tales, his gruff, deep voice weaving words together like an expert storyteller from the far desert east. His eyes brightened, and he grew stronger, and his skin brown. Mary would spar with Legolas, or her children, but she often tended to her youngest children, or played upon her violin, or read from the books they had brought– sometimes aloud, and sometimes to herself. One of these was a cherished treasure, its worn pages carefully sewn together with leather cord, its drawings colored with chalk, its painstakingly printed words telling the story of the dragon Locien and the elven king, Veryan, who loved the maiden Melda.

As time wore on fish began to appear, riding just below the surface like bright jewels of magnificent length and shape, their fins spread out from their body like wings. Then suddenly they would leap into the air many, many feet, spraying the deck and its inhabitants with crystal droplets that were warm on the skin, and then they would crash back into the sea with a resounding slap. These fish were blue and red orange and green, and some were multi colored, and some were golden, and some were the color of beaten copper, and some were like streaks of liquid silver skimming through just under the surface. They traveled on for several more weeks, and then a great fish arrived, the king of all fish. He had a great sword upon his snout, and his large eyes watched them from the water with curious scrutiny. He was large, at least twenty-two feet long, and the fin upon his back stood up like a silver sail, or a fan. He was all of the palest of lavenders, but for the thick stripe running down the center of his back, and the smaller stripes going down from it along his sides– those were of the deepest purple. He followed them, swimming alongside their ship for seven days without pause, matching their speed without tiring, watching them with his great golden eye. Yet never did he break the water. Then, on the eighth day, he suddenly disappeared from their view, diving down deep into the shadowed darkness of the ocean's depths. As they gazed over the side, wondering why he had gone, suddenly the water exploded beneath them in showers of crystal and stinging spray and sweet saltiness and thunder, and he rose into the air, water streaming in endless falls from his back and sides. Up, up he rose, high into the air, proud and magnificent and gleaming in the sun, high above their heads in a great arc, and then he crashed back down again, slicing through the surface with his sword, and he was gone.

"I wonder what that was for." Gimli said, his eyes wide with wonder.

Then they realized that the sound of thunder had not gone. In fact, it was growing louder. Galasrinion suddenly gave a cry, and pointed, and they all turned to see before the ship what was like a great breaker over a reef, only it spilled over into nothing, the water churning and rolling so that it was like it was boiling, all white with foam and froth, and there was a great wind roaring up from the depths and into the sky where the clouds swirled and crashed into one another, and spun to escape only to be caught up by the wind and swirled yet again. Rain fell in torrents, and lightning crashed and thunder rolled, yet there was sky of the purest blue, and the sun shone so brightly it hurt their eyes to look. And within it all was a deep, sonorous music, as though all the roars and crashing and rolling was to a drumbeat that only nature could hear, and yet it caught on the hearts of the elven children and of Legolas and Mary, calling to them, and they knew it called them home.

"This is it." Legolas whispered. "The end of all things."

"We shall reach it in less than three minutes." Gimli said, staring wide-eyed into the rolling and churning chasm of water.

Mary stared, feeling her heart rise within her in a leap of triumphant joy, the sound of the ocean and the song of nature filling her eyes and her ears, and before them the great lavender fish leapt yet again, glinting in the light, as though encouraging them on. Then suddenly a knife stabbed through Mary's heart.

She was not of elven blood.

What if she were not allowed to pass?

Her eyes turned to Legolas at the same time as his turned to her, and she saw in the blue depths the same sudden realization and fear. They came together, and she threw her arms around his neck, and felt his arms encircle her and hold her close to his hard and warm body. She felt his face press against hers and into her hair, and she heard his desperate words of love and promise, all the things one would want to say before it was too late and so often did not– they fell in elvish from his lips to her ears so fast that they broke and sometimes stumbled, and she felt a sob in her chest and tears in her eyes as she responded in like manner. She had not thought of this– she had forgotten, in her years of happiness, that for her the journey was uncertain, and now– without warning or time to prepare– to be suddenly faced with the possibility of losing Legolas, was more than she could bear. Mary clung to him, face pressed to his neck, eyes wide with terror as the thundering and roaring drew closer, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt the ship tip beneath them. She felt the spray of the churning waters as they began to fall. She felt Legolas's arms tighten around her, and she cried out his name as she was swallowed up in oblivion…

* * *


	6. “Glos Falas”

**"Celeb Amaurea" (Silver Dawn)**

Chapter Six

"Glos Falas"

* * *

There was silence. There was stillness. Mary kept her eyes closed, her arms tightly shut, feeling poised on the brink of something great and unknown and completely overwhelming. 

Suddenly it was as if life was returned; sounds filled her ears in a confusing chaos, and then, as she returned to herself, she realized that it was the shouts and cheers and cries of her family around her, mingled together with the roars of a dwarf, and around her still were the arms of Legolas, tight and hard like bands of steel that trembled slightly as they held her close, his warmth soaking through her. Mary laughed, weeping, lifted and held and holding and kissing. When finally she could pull back, holding Legolas's face, she could not help laughing in disbelieving relief and utter joy. She stared at him, her hands holding his face and tangling themselves in his hair, her eyes taking in his smooth and beautiful features and blue eyes that stared at her with warmth and love and pained relief. He pulled her to him again, embracing her so that she could hardly breathe, but Mary did not care.

They had made it.

There were surprised and excited cries, and then Gimli's hands upon their arms, turning them to see even as Mary noticed that he was no longer old, and his hair no longer white. "Look!" he said, pointing. "White shores!"

All around them was a smooth sea of crystal and glass, and before them, drawing steadily nearer, were shores of the purest white, stretching from one end of vision to the other, and beyond, rising steadily but surely, was country of lush green, and mountains rising tall and great in the far, far distance. Yet all was in blue shadow, and cool and dark. There was a quietness about it that caused all to hush and grow still. Then, as with a rising crescendo in a song that has you waiting in horrible yet wonderful anticipation for the next note, a light touched the far edge of the sky, and it grew bright, and brighter, and brighter still, and then the sun rose with a brilliant explosion of light and color, and as it rose the shadows were thrown back and the whole of the land was awash in light.

From the trees there came a trumpet or horn call that rolled out over the water to greet them, and then people began to emerge from the trees. There was Gandalf at the head, all in brilliant white, and Bilbo and Frodo and Sam at his side, and then behind them came Merry and Pippin, running with arms spread wide and calling out to them. There came all the elves, and Elrond and Galadriel and Celeborn, and there also they saw, approaching hand in hand, Aragorn and Arwen, more young and beautiful and noble then they had ever been. Also there came Thranduil, and beside him, holding his hand, was a fair elven maid with flowing black hair and eyes of blue. Behind them came Faramir and Éowyn, and then Éomer, and with them Théoden, and finally, walking at his brother's side, was Boromir.

Mary laughed, and pressed a hand to her mouth. "The Halls of Mandos are where the dead are judged." she whispered. "And only the worthy are allowed into Valinor."

She felt a hand in her hair, running through the long and silken strands, and she looked to see Legolas staring with a smile on his face, and then she saw, as he lifted his hand to let her tresses fall before reaching out to run through them again, that her hair was no longer white. As his fingers tangled within the dark tresses a burning heat entered his eyes, and the blue in them began to glow with a inner fire of white; Mary closed her eyes, and she felt her skin shiver and tingle where his fingers brushed her neck.

As Legolas's eyes rose to meet hers she smiled, and the warmth from the answering smile on his face filled her and spread out into her limbs and into her fingers and toes.

When the ship finally reached the shore the reunion was grand, full of joy, and full of laughter and calling to one another and cheers, and once in a while someone would suddenly break into song. Thranduil greeted his grandchildren with an excitement that made Mary laugh, and she was not surprised to see tears in his eyes when finally he reached Legolas, and enfolded his son in an embrace. Nor was she surprised to see the light of happiness and intense emotion on Legolas's face as he was reunited, after so long, with his mother, Laegeryn.

They found many cities thriving and bustling within Valinor. All was white stone, with jeweled roads and gold and silver and rushing rivers and expansive lands across which herds of horses ran, the like of which none has ever been seen, strong and stately and beautiful. There Gimli immediately set about making plans for homes for their family and himself, and he chuckled to himself and sang deep-throated dwarvish songs as he went about his work.

When the chaos had died down a bit, Gandalf found them, and sat with them a while, talking of this and that, sometimes of things important and mostly of things not. His blue eyes sparkled as much as ever, and he laughed heartily and often.

Later, as he watched them, he made his way to the side of an old friend. "So," he said, sitting down. "It would appear that your mission was a success."

The bearded man chuckled around his pipe, sitting back in a comfortable brown coat with a fur collar, and a brown scarf around his neck and tucked within the coat. He held a book in his hand, and beside him on the grass was a cup and saucer. "Yes, it would."

"Perhaps, Radagast, now that they are here, you could enlighten me?"

Radagast leaned back against the tree, and grasping the end of his pipe, pulled it from his mouth as he looked at Gandalf. "First of all, I was to observe everything that happened, from start to finish." He said. "The whole history of the Ring and the War itself. Then I was to travel to distant lands, set apart in space _and_ in time from Middle Earth completely, and there I was to make a life for myself."

"I know this much," Gandalf said, and waved his hand at Radagast's attire. "It is where you obtained you love for these wool jackets and for– what is it? 'British' tea. My question is, why?"

"To write it down, all of it. Minus, of course, one or two specific happenings and one of the main characters."

Understanding suddenly lit Gandalf's eyes. "Ahh."

"Yes!" Radagast pointed with his pipe, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"But why her, specifically?" Gandalf asked.

Radagast leaned back and puffed on his pipe, laying his book in his lap, and he picked up his cup and saucer. "Think about it a moment, Gandalf. It will come to you."

Bushy eyebrows drew together, both in exasperation and in concentration. For a moment all was quiet, as both wizards blew smoke rings and regarded the couple before them, walking under the trees and talking and laughing with one another. Moments, and happenings all passed through Gandalf's mind, one after another. Suddenly his eyes widened slightly, and his face relaxed into an expression of understanding. "If not for her, our young princeling would be dead." He said.

Radagast nodded, lowering the cup and swallowing the hot tea. "And if he were dead, or even if he had been saved some other way but she not here, Laerwen would not have been born, and then where would Eldarion be?"

Wonder and appreciation filled Gandalf's face, though he hid it behind another smoke ring. "A line of kings." He said thoughtfully. "The hand of Eru is certainly in all things."

Radagast simply nodded, settling back with a delighted and content expression on his face.

* * *

Mary lay on the shore, the white sand soft beneath her, warm water lapping gently at her feet. Above her a white bird circled, and the song it sang was full of delight, and its voice was high and pure like some flute or sweet pipe. Legolas lay beside her, propped on one elbow, and he gently stroked her cheek with his finger. Mary smiled and closed her eyes. 

"Im mel-le." _I love you._

She opened her eyes at the whispered words, and found herself gazing into blue pools of warmth and golden light. "Inye mel-le, Legolas." She whispered. "Sie meld." _I also love you, Legolas. So dearly._

"I thought I was going to lose you." There was a momentary flash of pain, and his brows drew together at the memory. "For many years now I have feared losing you."

Mary reached up, and gently smoothed the skin between his brows with her finger. The uncertainty of the length of her life had been with them both for a long time, and as their friends had grown old around them their fear had become greater. "Never." She said, and smiled, a light and warm glow in her eyes. "You're stuck with me forever now."

Legolas smiled then, the slow, full smile that spread across his face and lit his eyes like the sun. As he leaned down, holding her face in his hands, he kissed her. It was soft and gentle, brushing against her skin and along her jaw and down her neck. A trail of tingling heat was left behind, and Mary closed her eyes, raising herself to him. When finally Legolas claimed her mouth yet again it was filled with hunger and desire, and sweet spice upon her lips, and his hands held her tightly and ran along her sides and through her hair. Legolas closed his eyes, his breath leaving him in a heavy sigh as she groaned and reached up to tangle her fingers in his golden hair, holding his face with her small and strong yet gentle fingers. Within his chest the ember burned, growing hotter and hotter until it was like to consume him, and Legolas groaned, and pulled her close. Behind them, sparkling in the sun like a lavender jewel, a great fish leapt from the water.

* * *

_"White Shores" (Glos Falas)_

Why do you weep

In sorrows pass

As some fey phantom on the shore

Tis not the end

Of all that has

But onward sail to something more

Above the pale moon

Sheds her tear

Then laughing lightly spreads her veil

For on his steed

Is riding near

Her golden love in golden mail

"See here he comes

On the horizon

On waves of glass to carry me home

Lo feel the sun

At burning dawn

Before me rise white shores of home"

Shroud our eyes

With silver mist

As float we through a silver sea

And see not all

That went amiss

Dry your eyes and turn to dream

Waves of ice

Turn all to glass

And part before a silver prow

As white gulls call

Of things that pass

The sky filled with their haunting sound

See here they come

On the horizon

On waves of glass to carry us home

Lo feel the sun

At burning dawn

Before us rise white shores of home

All those old

And those before

Do you not hear them calling?

Set foot on sand

Of pure white shore

Feel wind as we are falling

Sunrise east

Sunset west

With light upon your skin

Sea birds call

And you know best

As hope and grace are yours again

See here I come

On the horizon

On waves of glass to carry you home

Lo feel the sun

At burning dawn

Before you rise white shores of home

And all will turn

To silver glass

Green be the country

Where we shall pass

See, there before

On the horizon

As the sun rises

With a burning dawn

White shores of home

* * *

_The End_

* * *


End file.
